


Immature and Unprofessional

by kitestrings



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-06-04 20:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 80,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6674926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitestrings/pseuds/kitestrings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since they first met, Qrow and Winter had a way of bringing out the worst in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Together, Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I'm back from an 8-year absence in fanfiction, all because I had to get this out of my system. There's plenty more to come, I hope you enjoy!

                The memory of the day he first met Winter had haunted him ever since. The slightest things would cause the flashbacks to come flooding in. It was always the same things, too: the smell of whiskey and firewood, a shadow out of the corner of his eye, a breeze so cold it stings the nose. Years had passed now. No matter how many times he locked eyes with her across a room or exchange bitter glances, each time Qrow saw her, later that night he would dream of when they first met. 

                He sighed involuntarily.

                He had known it then, and he was more sure now than he had ever been: That’s not the kind of woman you get over.

\---

                Qrow had been in Atlas that night. Actually, he had been in Atlas for a few days already, working his way through town, gathering information as inconspicuously as he could. As luck would have it, that involved spending a lot of time in bars. He would listen to the local chatter and involve himself when it suited him. Because a nosey Hunter from out of town would draw unnecessary attention from Atlas’ governmental arm, he had packed away his signature red cape in favor of clothes that suited his preferred alias: a market researcher for a communications company based in Vale.

                His alias gave him an excuse to talk to the locals—not that he usually needed one. His sharp business-casual ensemble garnered him attention from all sorts, and he was happy to talk to them, whether they had information that was pertinent to his mission or not.

                The tavern in which he found himself seemed to try to be many things all at once. Throughout his visit, Qrow had worked his way toward the center of the town, where the Atlas military and government was based. It understandably attempted to cater to those clientele, while still maintaining an atmosphere of comfort. These intensions clashed in many notable ways throughout the tavern, not the least involving the patrons themselves.

                Qrow was engrossed in conversation with a young woman. He was sitting at a table with her and a few other Atlas residents, resting his forearms on the table and leaning forward slightly. Her chestnut hair fell in large curls onto her shoulders and chest, and her green eyes were shining bright in the candle light. She was a Huntress, working mostly with the local police department to capture particularly dangerous targets with stealth and grace, as opposed to the usual police tactics of loud, obnoxious brute force. He was genuinely interested in what she was saying, he reminded himself, but he didn’t quite believe it. He should be, at least, but…

                As always, the emptiness inside him was gnawing away. It was like white noise in his ears, like an unseen force that clenched his lungs and weighed on his chest. Qrow saw the young woman’s lips moving, but he sunk into his mind before he realized it was happening. For a few moments, he felt like he was drowning. All his senses were overwhelmed.

                Then, from across the room, he heard another young woman’s laugh, and it all stopped. Qrow was back in the moment, and the young Huntress’ words floating into his ears. He shivered.

                “Are you okay?” the young Huntress asked. Qrow knew he had asked her name at least twice, perhaps even three times, but he could not remember. “You look cold,” she added.

                “I-I-uh,” Qrow laughed, “Guess I’m not used to being this far north. Not sure how you all stand it up here.” He scanned the crowd for the source of the laugh that had snapped him out of his trance. For a short moment he felt frantic, but Qrow reminded himself that this was like any other mission. Research. Approach. Acquisition. He heard it a second time, and this time he was ready.        

                Qrow stood up, and the young Huntress stood up as well. “Please excuse me, it’s been lovely talking to you,” he said. It was clear that his tone held too much sarcasm, intentional or not, because her face looked quite sour as she sat back down.

                From the moment he located the source of the laugh, it was hard to take his eyes off of her. Even then, he had a small feeling that it would be hard to take his eyes off of her for years to come. As he walked to the back corner of the bar where she was sitting, she laughed a third time, softer. She had been facing someone else seated next to her, but after a moment, she turned to him.

                (This, Qrow remembered, should have been his first red flag.  When questioned later, he would blame him lapse in judgement on the alcohol. But he knew, and Winter suspected, that this was not the case at all. He had been intoxicated by the sound of her laugh.)

                He noticed the following things about her, in the following order. She was tall, nearly as tall as him, and slender. Her outfit seemed to purposely hide her breasts, but it simultaneously highlighted the curve of her hips. She seemed to be doing that herself as well, leaning against the bar with her full weight and resting a hand on her waist. As his gaze traveled back upwards, he realized her eyes had locked on him. They were a deep, dark blue. Unblinking, she brushed some hair out from in front of her eyes. Her hair was white.

                (In the future, Qrow would insist that he had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind at this point. He had said it so many times that he was no longer sure if it was true or not.)

                Her eyes seemed to bore holes in him as he approached. She was smiling, but not in the genuine, warm way that Qrow was used to women smiling at him. Instead, she was smirking. As he squeezed himself in between her and her apparent conversation partner, Qrow wondered if she had seen him reject the chestnut-haired Huntress across the room in her favor.

                He flagged down the bartender, which took a few seconds longer than he wanted it to. All the while, the white-haired woman with the infectious laugh stared him down. The military-looking man she had been talking to had already found conversation elsewhere.

                “Excuse me, sir,” Qrow asked the bartender, “One of whatever she’s having, for each of us.” The bartender turned to her.

                “Whiskey, no ice.”

                Qrow turned to her now as well, finally meeting her intense gaze. “You know, you seem like my kind of woman,” he said, leaning on the bar to mirror her pose.

                “Oh really? And what kind of woman is that?” She asked, with a hint of laughter in the last word. Her voice was smooth and melodious, so much so that her words didn’t immediately register in his brain. Qrow, who wasn’t ready to answer that question, was saved by the bartender bringing their drinks over.

                “Only the best for you, Miss—“

                “Thank you, sir,” she cut him off. Qrow found the exchange intriguing.

                “Well, first, you know what you want. I like that. I’m guessing from your drink order that you’re a no-bullshit kind of person. You’re at this bar, in the center of town, so you’re a professional something. And the bartender knows you, so I’m guessing whatever you are, you’re a good one.”

                “Not bad. Better than most,” she added, tilting her head slightly. “My turn?”

                “What?”

                She began before Qrow had time to analyze the situation. “You told the nice girl over there that you’re doing research for a communications company. I’m guessing that’s not true, because you didn’t mention the name of the company—“

                “That’s classified,” Qrow interrupted, feeling his professionally-crafted alias falling apart before his eyes.

                “—even if it was, when she brought up the new scroll being manufactured in Atlas, you didn’t know what she was talking about. Anyone working at a communications company would know that, especially a market researcher. But that’s not what tipped me off first,” she admitted, “the name you gave, Robin, it doesn’t suit you.”

                “So,” Qrow began, missing the point completely, “You were watching me.” He smirked back at her.

                For the first of countless times, Qrow was the object of her sigh of exasperation. “I’m a Huntress,” she explained, “I watch everyone. Especially people I don’t recognize.”

                “Right,” he winked at her, “But I was right about you too. You’re good. I’m impressed.”

                She seemed taken aback by his compliment in a way that surprised him. Surely she was used to a steady stream of flattery, especially from men, he thought.

                “So, I’m interested to know who you really are, and what you’re actually doing here,” she said, her smile melting into a serious, neutral expression. Qrow was used to seeing that exact expression on the faces of Hunters and Huntresses across the world. She was evaluating a potential threat.

                “You’re _interested_?” He asked slyly. She sighed again. “Anyway, that’s actually classified.”

                “That I believe,” she conceded, but pressed further, “So where are you from? What’s your real name?”

                For an assortment of reasons, Qrow wanted to take the conversation in a different direction. “I’m from Vale,” he replied flatly, “And I’ll tell you my name once you tell me yours.” In this moment, Qrow realized that this was the strangest conversation he had ever had with a woman at a bar. But he liked it nonetheless.

                From the look on her face, he guessed that she had been so wrapped up in evaluating him that she had forgotten about introducing herself. Her smile started to creep back.

                “I’m Winter,”

                A feeling like cold water rushed through him. “Winter?” he repeated. Of course her name was Winter. If there was a god, their primary objective seemed to be sending women named after seasons to break his heart.

                “What’s yours?” her voice pulled him out from underwater. He knew it had only been a couple seconds, but he felt like he had been thinking about her name for hours.

                “Qrow,” he answered, breaking most of the rules that Ozpin and the others had specifically laid out for him. That’s what made it so fun.

                “I like that, it suits you much better.” She looked a bit shy for the first time in their conversation. Her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t quite look him in the eye. She took an impressively large gulp of her drink, which had been forgotten until now. He followed suit. The whiskey left a burning sensation in his mouth and throat, but he liked it.

                “I’m a Hunter,” he offered, breaking the remaining rules. This new bit of information led her eyes back to his. There was no smirk left on her face, only a small smile.

                (This moment would stick out in his memory more than any other. When they were apart, he would mentally chastise himself, and tell others that he didn’t understand why he acted the way he did when they were together. But whenever they were in the same room, it was like he was in a different world. His actions, as misguided as they often were, revolved absolutely around recreating this exact moment. The most important aspect, of course, being the way she looked at him.)

                Winter laughed and threw her hands up. “Don’t tell me anything else about that, please. I don’t want to get in trouble any more than you do.” She laid a soft, pale hand on his arm. The rush was incredible. Qrow had been touched by women time after time, but this feeling reminded him of the intoxicating rush of battle more than any love or lust he had felt before. Suddenly, the realization hit him. For what might be the first time, he was evenly matched.

                “So what should we talk about?” He asked, smirking at her and taking a small step closer to her. Noting that her first advance was well received, she placed her other hand on his chest.

                She gave him a mischievous grin, “I have a few ideas.”

                ---

                She led him by the hand through downtown Atlas. It was a cold spring night, and the snow was blowing fiercely. He could barely see through the storm. By the time they climbed the stairs to her third-floor apartment, Qrow could barely feel his face.

                Winter opened her apartment with the swipe of a keycard, and led him inside. She did not turn on the lights, except for one lamp beside her bed. Qrow couldn’t make out much in the dark room, except for a cluttered desk, a sword leaning up against the wall, and her large bed with curtains hanging from the posts. The two stood for a tense moment, a few feet apart in the dim, warm light. Whatever confidence they had in the bar had blown away with the snow, and they were different now. For the first time (and what would be the last time—well, at least for quite a while), they were totally vulnerable.

                Qrow was never sure exactly who broke the invisible barrier between them in that moment, but in his memory, it was always Winter. He remembered his hands on her waist, but not as much as clearly as he remembered her hand on his face, caressing his stubbly beard. He remembered exactly how her lips felt, and most of all how it felt when she undid the buttons on his coat and pressed her hand against his chest again.

                (He pictured this moment in his head again and again countless times afterwards, for years to come. The feeling of her touches was burned into his memory. But sometimes when he remembered it, all he could feel in the place where she once touched him was pain.)

                They pulled apart briefly, but only to help one another out of their clothes.

                “This isn’t your usual ensemble, is it?” Winter asked, referring to the clothes Qrow had chosen for his alias. She was breathing heavily, and there was a certain sparkle in her eye. In time, he would come to recognize that look. It sometimes signaled desire, but more specifically, it was look Winter had when she was moving in on her prey.

                “Correct again,” he said, tugging her back to him by the buttons on her vest where his hands were. As he kissed her, he breathed in her scent. It was distinctly floral, and as intoxicating as her laugh had been. “Next time, I’ll show you my real one,” he added. He caught himself as he was saying it, and even Winter gave him a flash of an odd look. It wasn’t like him to make promises of ‘next time’ in women’s bedrooms. Even then, Qrow knew she was different. In a way, he wasn’t wrong.

                It became apparent that he had struggled for too long. “Too many fucking buttons,” he mumbled, embarrassed. She laughed, and helped him. She shed her vest, and then began undoing the buttons on her shirt below.

                “Wow,” Qrow said, nearly speechless, “I can see why you keep those tucked away,” he gestured to her breasts. She began to look offended before he finished his thought, “No one else would get anything done otherwise!” He got the words out as quickly as he could to try and avoid screwing this up at the last minute. For a moment, she seemed to evaluate him and his ill-timed pause, but then she pulled him back to her, kissing him hard.

                “Whew,” he sighed with melodramatic relief, “You knew what I meant, right?”

                “I suppose,” she said coyly, unbuttoning his shirt with relative ease and leading him to the bed, “I figured I’d at least give you the chance to prove it.”

She pulled him down onto the bed with her, and then drew the curtains shut. The rest of the world seemed to disappear, and there was only her.

\---

                The next morning, things did not fall apart immediately. Qrow woke first, but it was a slow process. A few times, he would wake, see and feel the beautiful naked woman sleeping up against the side of his body, be filled with a sense of joy and accomplishment, and fall back asleep. The curtains around her bed blocked out most of the natural light, so they seemed to sleep late into the morning before Winter woke suddenly.

                It startled Qrow, because he had been stroking her silvery white hair when she jerked awake. “Oh fuck, what day is it?” She said, a bit frantic.

                “Friday?” He offered. This is not how he had pictured their morning beginning. She breathed a sigh of relief.

                “Alright, I don’t have anything until afternoon patrols,” she said, a smile returning to her face, “That means we have time for breakfast,” she added.

                Meanwhile, Qrow’s heart had sunk into his stomach. Winter had scrambled to her hands and knees in her momentary panic, and she was now peering down at him. He admired her naked body, trying to escape the nagging thought taking over his mind. She really was too good to be true: she was an Atlas military specialist.

                “Breakfast?” Qrow inquired, trying to hide the doubt in his voice. Winter got up and began getting dressed. Sure enough, it was the Atlas military getup from head to toe.

                “Yeah,” she replied, apparently sensing the shift in his mood, “Is something wrong?”

                Unsure how to proceed, Qrow explained, “Oh, I just—I didn’t know you were a military specialist.”

                “Are you not?” she asked, confused.

                “No,” Qrow replied, beginning to get frustrated. He located his pile of clothes next to the bed and began getting dressed. Like any good Hunter, at the first sign of danger he began preparing an exit strategy. “Vale doesn’t really _do_ that,” he added for further emphasis.

                “Oh, I guess I knew that,” Winter said, “I haven’t been outside Atlas much, only for a few missions during school. I graduated last year and I was accepted into the Accelerated Specialist program right away.”

                This time, a sense of dread filled Qrow’s entire body. Atlas military, he might be able to look past. This, however, was a serious problem. He was unable to contain himself, “You graduated _last year_?” The realization hit him so hard that he seemed frozen in the middle of buttoning his shirt.

                “Well, yeah,” Winter began, furrowing her eyebrows so that her face looked scrunched in anger, “But I’m not stupid. I was at the top of my class, and I even graduated a year early.”

                This was even worse, and Winter did not seem to realize why. “You graduated a year early?” Qrow repeated, “So you’re saying you could still be a student right now? You’re _20_?”

                “Yeah,” she replied, visibly irritated now, “What the hell is your problem?”

                Qrow threw his hands up in the air, “Oh my god, I’m a _teacher._ At Signal.”

                Winter finally looked equally horrified. She did not respond, only left her mouth hanging open as she stared at him across the room.

                “This could ruin my reputation, I could lose my job,” he mumbled, half to himself. But his comment was not lost on her.

                “ _Your_ reputation? You’re a barely competent ‘information gatherer’, you don’t deserve to be called a spy. And spying on Atlas? You’re our ally, for fuck’s sake,” she was incredulous now, her voice rising the further she got in her rant.

                Qrow narrowed his eyes, “Well, I guess it makes sense that a kid like you doesn’t understand what the grownups do.” He had noticed that he had accidentally struck a nerve with her earlier regarding her age. This time he did it intentionally.

                It worked. Her teeth were clenched, he wondered if she might physically attack him at any moment. “You don’t take Atlas military seriously at all, do you? We’re not worthy of the respect of a half-rate Hunter like you?”

                He closed the gap between them again, strategically positioning himself closer to the door. “That’s not quite the case,” he began, determined to rile her up even further, “I don’t care what all those other idiots do. They probably don’t have any other options. No, I just don’t have any respect for Hunters and Huntresses who sign their lives away to protect the government instead of protecting humanity. Especially you,” he whispered, “I can’t imagine you have as much of a reputation to lose as you pretend you do.”

                Winter laughed. It was different this time, though, distinctly sinister. “Excuse me? You must be even slower on the uptake than I thought. In Atlas we teach something called ‘situational awareness.’”

                Qrow scanned the room for what she was talking about, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. The previous night, he had been so caught up in the seasonal aspect of her name that he had forgotten that he had heard it before. _Winter Schnee._ Firstborn and heiress to the Schnee Dust Company that held the world’s dust market in its greedy fist.

                He made a noise of disgust. “I’m surprised you slept with me, I doubt you’ve ever made a decision by yourself in your entire life.”

                “It’s a mistake I won’t be making again,” she shot back, her voice full of venom. Even though Qrow despised her job, her family and most of what she stood for, this still hurt, for some reason. For half a second, her face softened and the corners of her mouth turned downward. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then shut it suddenly. The anger came flooding back onto her face.

                “Good,” he replied. The woman with the infectious laugh seemed gone, maybe forever. So he left too, slamming the door behind him.


	2. A Decent Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm glad you liked the first chapter. Buckle up, I've got quite a bit more written and a lot planned! But for the sake of consistency, I'll be updating this fic weekly (on Wednesdays). That way, I can use up my buffer during my upcoming life events (travel, moving, etc.) and I shouldn't disappear for a month at a time. Depending on your time zone, this one might be a bit early, but I have to be out of the house and away from my desktop for most of the day tomorrow, and I was too excited to wait until afternoon to post it. Feel free to hit me up on tumblr (listed in my profile) if you'd like to chat!
> 
> Enjoy!

                The second time Qrow and Winter crossed paths, they were at a private shooting range in Atlas, reserved for military members and Hunters. There were many digital shooting ranges all over town, many of which were much closer to Winter’s apartment than this physical one, but she wasn’t at the range to improve her aim. She was there to blow off steam.

                In fact, she had been there for a couple hours already. Many people had come and gone while she was there, a few of which had been colleagues of hers. Despite how friendly they normally were with her, they did not dare disturb her today. It was a matter of Schnee honor to be cold, logical, and unemotional, but she was struggling with that at the moment.

                The catalyst of her foul mood had been a terrible date the prior evening. Winter was no stranger to terrible dates, though. She had had her fair share of flings when faced with the vast, exciting freedom that combat school provided. What started out as phase of teenage rebellion had morphed over time into a habit that her father supported. Throughout her childhood, her father had made it clear that she was supposed to be born male, so that the company would have a suitable heir. At some point, after Weiss was born, he seemed to realize that his best chance at a male heir was for Winter to marry someone acceptable and produce a son.

                Winter pulled the trigger of her pistol, landing three shots in the center of her silhouette-shaped target. She let out a short sigh, and loaded another full magazine. Over the past few years, she had been…encouraged to pursue a certain kind of man. This type of man incidentally seemed to end up being from a wealthy family, dim-witted, and utterly boring. 

                From its inception, the previous night’s date had been notably worse than all the others. Her division of specialists had recently participated in a war game hosted by the Intelligence division, and one of the team leaders had taken an interest in her. He was Duncan Armstrong, a tall, lanky man a few years older than her with fair skin, brown hair and dark brown eyes. He seemed nice enough, but not very interesting. Her father had encouraged Winter to accept his offer because the Armstrong family had been leaders in the Atlas military since the birth of the kingdom, and would be an excellent match for the Schnees.

\--

                For that reason alone, Winter met Duncan after work yesterday evening. They walked a few blocks away from the Atlas military complex to the Calypso Pub, which featured a young woman singing along with a jazz band. Duncan pulled out her chair for her. This was not enough to impress Winter, who had spent a long day doing combat exercises and was probably too exhausted to be on a date. After they were settled in their seats, he made an unfortunate choice in his opening line.

                “So you’re a Schnee, right?”

                Winter smiled, but internally she was infuriated. She had heard this question and its variations countless times, and it always seemed to reveal the true intentions of her conversation partner.

                “Yes,” she answered. There was nothing else to say. She was a Schnee. She refused to acknowledge any implications that came along with the question, in order to force him to ask what he really wanted to know. This simple exchange was already wearing on her, so she flagged down a waitress, “Can I have a whiskey old fashioned please? Sour? Thanks.”

                When she did not speak further, Duncan asked, “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” (she did) “Why are you in the military instead of working for your father? Isn’t that…well, a lot more work?”

                Winter almost couldn’t contain herself this time. She opened her mouth slightly, looking confused and offended, then shut it again. A tiny, lonely voice in her head suggested maybe he didn’t mean any harm by the implication that she would make her career choices based on the least amount of work. She waited a long minute until the waitress brought her drink, drank most of it in one go, and then answered.

                “I chose to become a Huntress and a military specialist because I want to do good things. My family has nothing to do with it,” she answered slowly, but her second statement was a lie. Her family had everything to do with it, in a way. Qrow’s words from three months ago crept into her mind without her permission. She physically shook her head to get his image out of her mind. Why was that still happening, after all this time?

                “Well, your father does good things too,” Duncan replied, and it was everything Winter could do not to roll her eyes. She was about to endure an evening of blatant flattery of her father and herself. In fact, she had become a Huntress in the hopes of someday distancing herself from the Schnee name, the company, and most other things about her family. Her father had been furious when she entered the Huntress Academy, nearly disowning her then and there. He had eventually come around to the idea of her being in the military, or at least, finding a husband in the military. She finished her drink. When she didn’t respond again, he added, “But becoming a Huntress is pretty admirable too.”

                “It’s a job,” she replied flatly, but seized the opportunity to steer the conversation towards work. She was genuinely interested in the workings of the Intelligence division, and questioned him about it for the remainder of the evening. The drinks were good, the food was decent, but the girl singing with the band made her feel sad in a way she didn’t quite understand. About halfway through the evening, he took her hand, which had been resting on the table. After he walked her to her apartment building, he asked very nervously if he could kiss her, and she obliged. It seemed to last forever, similar to the way their physical training exercises seemed to last forever.

                “I really like you,” Duncan said, excited and breathy, “Can I see you again?”

                Winter didn’t answer right away. She stared back at him, her mouth half open. Had he not been able to sense her discomfort and lack of enthusiasm? Or maybe he had, and he was willing to look past it because of her status as a Schnee. There was only one thought on her mind, and it was so strong that she almost asked him.

                Is this it? Is this the romance and love and excitement people wait their whole lives for? What exactly is it that makes someone want to lay down their life to protect someone else? To spend the rest of their life with someone else? Is this supposed to be it?

                But she didn’t say that. What she said instead was, “Sure.”

\--

                Winter let out a long breath and put five bullets directly in the head of her target. She tried not to even think of Qrow unless she was locked in her house, safe inside her own mind. But in the context of her terrible date, it was hard not to. Even their falling out the morning after had been more fun than last night.

 When she recalled any moment that they had spent together, her blood began rushing and pumping in her veins as it had that entire night. She had not felt that way about anyone before or since, that much was she was sure of. But whatever excitement and attraction still remained was mixed in with utter hatred. He was not the kind of person she should associate herself with, personally or professionally. Not that she wanted to.

                “Whatcha up to?”

                Qrow’s voice came from behind her, clear and unmistakable. Winter nearly jumped out of her skin. She panicked for half a second, wondering if finally allowing herself to think of him had somehow summoned him, like some kind of spell.

                “I’m—wait, what? What are you doing here? This is a private range!” She sputtered, drawing attention from a couple of the other people nearby.

                “Well, I said I’d be back to show you my usual getup, didn’t I?” Qrow replied, placing his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows. He was sporting a grey button up shirt, a loose tie, and a tattered red cape that blew in the wind behind him.

                “I—I figured you changed your mind,” Winter said, trying to work out what was going on.

                Qrow shrugged, “I did, but I was already in the area chatting with your boss.”

                “Lieutenant Coronel Vass?” She was nothing less than shocked. Qrow had made his anti-military sentiment very clear that morning three months ago, which didn’t explain why he had officers for acquaintances.

                He looked confused for a minute, then laughed. “No, not that half-wit. Ironwood.”

                “General Ironwood?” She gasped. He was the head of Atlas military and the Hunter/Huntress Academy. She had trouble even picturing them in the same room together. “What business do you have with him?”

                “Aw, I’m sorry, but that’s a bit over your head,” He replied, giving her a fake, mocking frown. “Luckily, or whatever, he seems to have taken an interest in you,” Winter looked surprised, even happy, before he added, “So how was your date last night?”

                Her face immediately turned sour, which was answer enough.

                “Aw, yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, sarcastically frowning again, “That’s too bad, isn’t it? Well, get used to it, if he’s keeping an eye on you, everything is his ‘business.’ I suppose that’s normal for you, since you’re a Schnee, right?”

                Winter was infuriated, but in an entirely different way than she had been the previous night. Instead of feeling empty, she felt full to the brim with the rush of anger and…excitement? She went on the offensive.

                “So you came all this way to…show off that you know Ironwood, when you allegedly hate the military? Deliver the message that he’s watching me? That’s very kind of you,” she shot back sarcastically, then stepped forward so she could lower her voice to an angry whisper, “No, you just had to see me, didn’t you? It’s not good for your ‘ladies’ man’ image to chase after a girl like this. It was just a one night stand. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

                “Is that so?” He tilted his head, smirking back at her, “Turns out I move in your circles, you really think we’re never going to see each other again? We’re never going to sleep together again?”

                Winter opened her mouth to speak, but she was frozen. Realizing the implications of her silence, she tried to get words out, “No—I—I—we—“

                Qrow laughed. “That’s what I thought,” he said, turning and leaving her there on the range, her face flushed and her heart beating so loud she could hear it in her ears.

                She let out a growl of disgust, and repositioned herself at the target. She fired two shots into the black silhouette: one in the head, and one in the heart.


	3. A Peace Offering

                Qrow tried to pretend that his shift towards taking missions in Atlas had nothing to do with Winter, even to himself. After a semester spent teaching, with no missions at all, he took three in a row in Atlas, which caught the attention of Ozpin.

                “I thought you preferred to stay in Vale, because of your nieces,” Ozpin pointed out during one of their private meetings.

                He was caught off guard. He hadn’t yet come to terms with the true nature of his motivations, so it disturbed him that they were visible to Ozpin. “I mean, yeah, I do, don’t get me wrong, I just…” But his brain didn’t supply an excuse quickly enough, so he was left scratching his head and looking guilty.

                “Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing you’d like to share with me?” Ozpin pressed further, “I just think, due to the importance of the work that we do, you should be open with me about anything that…might have an effect on your…judgement.”

                He coughed. “No idea what that could be, sir.”

                “Sir?” Ozpin asked, taken aback, but Qrow only shrugged. “Well, I see, I suppose. I know you pretty well though, Qrow, after all these years,” he pulled something up on his scroll to reference it, “Which is why I think it’s odd that you took a mission to be…a security detail at an Atlas military promotion ceremony?” He looked up as he asked the second part of the question, carefully watching him for his reaction.

                Qrow was not prepared. Looking up at the ceiling, he half mumbled, “I mean, yeah. I guess I just like being surrounded by snow and pricks with sticks up their asses.”

                “I…see,” he replied, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. And just let me say, you should deal with whatever it is, for your own sake. Enjoy your trip to Atlas.”

                Qrow gave him a fake salute as he made his way to the elevator, “Thanks, I probably won’t.”

\--

                From the moment he stepped off the plane in Atlas, Qrow regretted his decision to take this mission. It was the dead of winter now, and Atlas was as unbearable as ever. Bundled up in no less than two coats, three scarves and a hat, he made his way to the Atlas military complex, ignoring every instinct to turn around and go home.

                He reported to the guard outside the large auditorium building where events were held. “I’m a Hunter from Vale responding to the request for—“

                “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the guard waved his hand to stop Qrow from going any further, then gestured for him to hand over his scroll, “Branwen? Alright, go get changed.”

                “What?” He asked, alarmed.

                “There’s a locker room around behind the stage. You’ll need a Class A uniform from Rack…” the guard gave him an up-and-down, “…B.”

                Disgusted at the idea of wearing an Atlas military uniform and wondering what the implications of Rack B were, Qrow took his gear and his broken pride into the auditorium locker room. The clandestine reason for taking the mission nagged at the edge of his consciousness, begging to be addressed. But his denial continued. After all, why would he take this mission after two consecutive missions in Atlas when he didn’t run into her? Obviously his strategy wasn’t working. Not that he had a strategy.

                The locker rooms were much larger than he expected, with long rows of uniforms with varying degrees of formality. Class A was the most formal of them all, and it was the one he was used to seeing Ironwood wear.

                “Too many fucking buttons,” he mumbled to himself, and ignored the stab to the heart that he felt as he said it.

                After putting on the absurd amount of layers, Qrow took a look at himself in the mirror. For a second, he thought he looked quite sharp and handsome. Then his disgust extended to himself. Is this what he would become if he couldn’t keep himself away from her? Not that that was happening. He slung the strap of his weapon around his shoulder, and when he turned to leave he was issued a small pistol and combat knife to tuck inside his jacket.

                He made his way to his post as indicated on his scroll: a balcony on the large wall opposite the stage. It was far away, but had a clear view—his first stroke of luck on this trip. The soldier stationed across from him was a chatterbox, but he was used to drowning out people like that.

                After about twenty minutes, the figurative robots filed in, followed by the literal robots that encircled the room. The figurative robots were all dressed in Class A uniforms like his, a sea of white jackets. Qrow figured that the five empty chairs on the stage would fill once the audience was seated, but they did not. Waves of soft chatter moved through the white sea. His security partner was messing with something on his scroll. Qrow rolled his eyes, but he was at least happy that the guy had shut up for a while.

                It seemed like ages had passed already when Ironwood and his five Lieutenant Generals took to the stage. Qrow, who had been ordered to guard the hallway leading to the balcony, only realized it was happening when the audience fell silent suddenly, followed by the sound of thousands of boots standing in unison.

                “At ease,” Ironwood’s booming voice came over the microphone. The audience returned to their seats. Qrow leaned slightly towards the balcony to get a good view of the stage, but he didn’t want Ironwood to catch even a glimpse of him. Ozpin might have given him respectful distance while he made strange choices for unknown reasons, but if Ironwood found out he would be relentless. Qrow sighed. It was like having babysitters sometimes. No, it was worse than that. At least when he would babysit his nieces, everyone involved seemed to be having fun.

                Ironwood began a long speech on the history of the Atlas military and the honor involved in moving through the ranks. It was somehow worse than waiting in silence. Without warning, Qrow slipped into the memory of the night he first met Winter. He was done making excuses to himself, but he was not ready to confront his feelings just yet.

                It was not any certain sound, but something out of the corner of his eye that jerked him out of his memory. There she was, across the room, lining up to go onto the stage. A light had hit her just right, illuminating her like an angel.

                “And now,” Ironwood announced, “I present those achieving the rank of Lieutenant Coronel. Congratulations, Lieutenant Coronel Hina Akayama. Thank you for serving your kingdom. Congratulations, Lieutenant Coronel Colby Atkins. Thank you for…” Qrow watched the procession, unblinking. The person announced would walk onto the stage, shake hands with the five Lieutenant Generals, then Ironwood himself, who would pin their new badge to their uniform. The recipient would salute the crowd for a long three seconds, then walk off the other side of the stage.

                Finally, “…Congratulations, Lieutenant Coronel Winter Schnee. Thank you for serving your kingdom.” In the stage lights, she was glowing. Every white hair was pulled into a tight bun, except for her bangs, which fell off of her face into a delicate curl. She was beaming. Her uniform was perfectly tailored, and she walked across the stage with practiced grace.

                Qrow had not noticed that he drifted to the edge of the balcony, but his security partner did.

                “If you want to try and hit that, good luck. She’s a tough nut to crack,” his partner informed him, and Qrow cringed at the metaphor.

                “Oh, really?”

                “Yeah,” the man replied, stepping towards the edge of the balcony as well, “I went out with her a couple times. You’ll have to get in line, anyway, most people are trying to get a shot with a Schnee while she’s still pretty.”

                Qrow, who would insult Winter to her face without a second thought, felt entirely offended on her behalf. At least he openly hated her family, her life choices and her values, this was just…disgusting.

                “Is that so?” Qrow asked, turning back to watch Ironwood pin her new badge below her shoulder. If this guy was the date that Ironwood had mentioned, he could see why she had been underwhelmed.

                “Yeah,” he said again, offering no more intelligent thoughts. He touched his face nervously.  

                Qrow turned and put his hand on the man’s shoulder, “Well, I don’t know what she didn’t see in you. You, sir, are a treasure.” The man’s expression changed, trying to decipher his sarcasm. Qrow turned back to the stage, and instantly made eye contact with Winter.

                She had spotted him across the room, and there was no doubt she knew it was him. As she saluted, she was making her signature “surprised” face that he had come to recognize: eyes wide, mouth half-open. But she was smiling. She blinked a couple times, then stifled a laugh. He had been caught. Ironwood glanced over at her, and the face disappeared into the neutral Huntress expression as she left the stage.

                Seeing his opportunity, Qrow turned to his distraught partner, “I think she was laughing at you, dude.”

\---

                After the painfully-long conclusion speech of the ceremony, the reception began. Each soldier cleared their own chair to large racks in the back, and a combination of robots and building staff brought in tables filled with drinks and desserts.

                Both his scroll and his partner informed Qrow that they were invited to attend the reception as guests, the second security team would take over now. He declined. His true feelings had become inescapable. And in his usual fashion of dealing with things, he preferred to sulk on the balcony, and planned to slip out of the building unnoticed.

                But that’s not what happened at all.

                “And here I thought you were a figment of my imagination,”

                There she was—Winter, a real person and not a memory—in the doorway, standing over where he was slumped against the wall of the balcony. She was holding two plates, each with a small slice of chocolate cake and a fork.

                “You look…nice,” she said, her voice slow and hesitant.

                “Thanks,” Qrow said sheepishly. The promotion must have put her in a pretty fantastic mood, he deduced, since she didn’t attack him on sight.

                To his intense surprise, she sat down beside him and handed him a plate of cake. They had been physically close since the night they spent together, but it hadn’t been like this.

                “So, what would you have done if I wasn’t real?” he inquired, trying to dig deep and be coy.

                Winter swallowed a bite of cake and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “I would have sat up here and eaten both pieces by myself, of course.”

                Qrow examined the piece of cake, “So, is this a…peace offering?”

                “It can be,” she replied, raising her eyebrows and smiling. But something about the expression on Qrow’s face seemed to indicate that something was wrong. “Qrow…what are you doing here?” Her smile fell, and she looked concerned.

                “I don’t know,” he said, which was mostly true. He added, “…this kind of thing…doesn’t normally happen to me.”

                Winter hesitated, and he thought she was about to ask for clarification. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned away from him, looking forward instead. “Me either,” she sighed. They were quiet for a while, sitting next to each other but staring straight ahead.

                “Why didn’t you yell at me?” Qrow said finally, looking at her.

                “I don’t know,” she admitted, “I just didn’t want to.” She paused, looking down at the floor between them for a moment, and then back up. Her words were rushed, “When I saw you up here, when I was on stage…I was happy. I don’t know why. I wanted to see you.”

_I wanted to see you too_ , the words rang through Qrow’s mind, but he pushed them away. She was looking at him like she had that night, shy and soft with nervous pink cheeks. Then the moment was over, and she turned to stare back into the hallway again.

                “Well, I learned you were right about something. These people aren’t real Hunters and Huntresses. Not anymore,” she said, sounding resigned.

                For the first time, Qrow saw two paths before him. He could point out that she was just like them, that she had signed her freedom and honor away just like they had, or he could do something else—something much more frightening. He could connect with her.

                He laughed. She had given him a chance, and he was going to try not to waste it. “I met a colleague of yours up here,” he began, but she cut him off with a sigh of exasperation and a dramatic eye roll.

                “Yeah, Duncan. He’s pretty great, isn’t he?” she shook her head, laughing.

                “I—yeah, wow,” Qrow said, shaking his head as well, “I’m…sorry that happened to you.”

                “I accept your condolences,” she replied sarcastically. She inched her hand closer to his across the scratchy carpet. In a temporary moment of bravery, Qrow placed his hand on top of hers. Anyone watching the nervous flirting never could have guessed that the two had been as intimate, or as furious, with one another as they had been in the past year.

                 “Can I ask you something?” Winter said, turning her whole body towards him and leaning sideways onto the wall. When he nodded, she continued, “What did Ironwood say about me when you met with him? Six months ago, when we met on the shooting range?”

                Qrow laughed nervously. This is not the direction either of them wanted the conversation to turn.

                “Oh, nothing in particular, nothing all that much that stood out to me,” he mumbled. Nothing that she wanted to hear, anyway. “We’re having a nice moment, we’re not yelling, I’m not mad at you, you’re not mad at me. Are you sure you want to…” he trailed off, unable to finish his thought as he looked her in the eyes.

                “Please?” she asked, looking sad, “Be honest with me.”

                He sighed. She would probably be able to tell if he lied to her, it hadn’t worked out the first time he tried. He couldn’t make eye contact while he told her. “He said that he was ‘keeping an eye on’ you, because if you were ‘good enough’, you would be a great…’business opportunity’ for the military.” He cringed even as he said it, watching her face fall out of the corner of his eye.

                Winter turned away, doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that there were tears streaming down her face. “Winter,” he said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

                “I know,” she cut him off, her voice watery. She turned back to face him, but looked at the floor, “I should be used to it, I’m a Schnee, right?”

                It was unbelievably painful to see her this way, and even more painful to realize that his unkind words had stuck with her the same way hers had with him. For the first time, he saw her differently. Until now, Winter had been an intelligent, beautiful woman that represented everything he hated about the establishment. But the things he hated had broken _her_ , too.

                “I should be _happy,_ ” she continued, stifling a sob, “I’m the youngest Lieutenant Coronel that Atlas has ever had. I just—I guess I just thought that if I worked hard enough, everything I accomplished would mean that I was worth something—like, me, Winter, and not just my last name,” she sighed, wiping her eyes.

                Qrow placed both hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to him as he whispered, “You don’t have to do this. You’re a real Huntress. There are people outside of Atlas, people who are constantly living in fear. They don’t care what your last name is, and you have the power to help them. Your last name…could be anything you want.” In that moment, maybe she saw him differently too.

                “I can’t,” she sniffed, “It would be like running away.”

                “It’s not running away, it’s—“

                “It would feel like running away to me, no matter what,” she clarified sternly, “I gave my word. That means something. Maybe someday things will change, but for now, this is what I have to do.” The tears had slowed.

                Qrow nodded, “You gave your word. I think I can respect that.” He laughed a little, and she smiled, her face still blotched from crying.

                “He’s such a dick,” she mumbled under her breath, but Qrow caught enough to be intrigued.

                “What was that?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

                Winter looked guilty, then laughed, wiping her eyes. “I said Ironwood’s a dick,” she repeated, not raising her voice above a whisper.

                “We can agree on that forever,” Qrow nodded, offering his hand for her to shake.

                She took it. “It’s a deal.” There was a long silence, where they both held onto the other’s hand.

                He looked around nervously. “So, what now?”

                “I don’t know,” she said softly.

                “I don’t know either,” he admitted.

                With nothing left to say, he took her soft face in his other hand and kissed her, more gently than he had ever kissed another person before. She smelled like chocolate and flowers, and her cheeks were still wet with tears. He could feel a smile growing on her lips as she kissed him back. Finally doing what he had wanted to do all night, he took the soft, tiny curl of her bangs in his fingers and held it tenderly, then ran his fingers through her hair.

                “Are you sure you don’t want to run away?” He asked, their foreheads pressed against one another. Her eyes were so blue.

                She pressed her lips together for a moment, then smiled, “How about just for tonight?”

                “Alright,” he nodded. He stood up, and offered her his hand, “just for tonight.”


	4. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday everyone! Good news! I'll be out of the country for the next week, but starting a week from Sunday (May 29th), I'll be posting chapters twice a week, Sundays and Wednesdays, until further notice! I can handle it right now, but if I get overwhelmed I'll dial it back to weekly. You all get better content if I have time to edit, trust me. c: So that's the plan, Chapter 5 will be posted a week from now, and then Chapter 6 will be posted the following Sunday. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for your continued support! Enjoy!

                In the days following the promotion ceremony, Winter felt lost. Like the first night they met, the full scope of her regret didn’t hit her until she went to work after Qrow left. Her usual routine felt jarring and unfamiliar. It was as if the world she inhabited with Qrow and the place where she worked were two separate universes that she sometimes moved between.

                It had begun to dawn on her what it was about him that so deeply affected her. Qrow was her only glimpse into an alternate path, another life she could possibly live. But it (and he) was so different from her own, it seemed as though he polarized her.

                But after all the analysis and compartmentalizing, Winter still felt lost. At work she barred Qrow from her thoughts and threw herself completely into her job, impressing her superiors with a level of focus they had never seen from her before. But at the end of the day, she would come home, lock all the doors and cover the windows. Only when she felt completely safe would she confront her feelings, and the evidence that Qrow had left behind.

                For a couple days after the ceremony, one of the pillows on her bed still smelled like him. Though she wouldn’t admit it to herself, she hadn’t been sleeping on that side of the bed anymore, leaving an empty space where he had been. After he left that morning, Winter had found his belt on the floor. She had hung it in her closet, where it remained as a constant reminder.

                But that wasn’t the only piece of evidence. They had finished off her carton of eggs that morning, and it sat empty on her counter for days afterward. It had surprised Winter how delicate he had been with the eggs, and he turned out to be a skilled cook.

                “Didn’t I tell you? I’m a family man!” He had said. This was an even bigger surprise to Winter, and it conflicted with everything else she knew about him. She didn’t get clarification that day, and in the following days, she began to wonder how much she didn’t know about him after all.

                Winter didn’t find the last thing Qrow left behind until almost a week afterwards. It was on her cluttered desk, on the top of a stack of papers was something she didn’t recognize. It was a small piece of paper, ripped from one of her notebooks. In large, messy letters was written, “I’ll be thinking of you”. It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be.

                Winter felt like she had been hit in the chest with a brick. She sank to her knees, clutching the note. It was just too much. Her latest run-in with Qrow had been pleasant—no, it had been fantastic—but that made it all the more difficult. She felt utterly torn between the two universes, and his note had been too much for her take. After a while, only one path was clear: she had to leave, she had to go back to the place where things seemed to make sense.

                It was time to go home.

\---

                The Schnee estate was on the outskirts of Atlas, surrounded by large stretches of tough grass that had been specially designed to survive the harsh winters. Winter had to take the train to get that far out of town. During the ride, her resolve had wavered, but it was too late to turn back now. More than once, she opened her scroll to call her father and announce that she was visiting, but in the end she decided against it.

                As she walked down the road from the train station, her long white jacket blew in the wind. Consciously, Winter had chosen her Class A uniform to impress her parents. Subconsciously, she had chosen it because going home felt like the most formal of events. After about ten minutes, the Schnee mansion came into sight.

                It was a work of art in itself. It had been inhabited by the Schnees for generations, so it had been improved and expanded upon until it nearly resembled a castle made of white marble. It had four wings that extended outward from a large main building, isolating even the largest of families. Over time Winter no longer saw it as a thing of beauty. It only brought to mind a powerful loneliness.

                Winter strode through the lawn, passing beds full of flower buds, not quite ready to bloom. “Don’t worry,” she said, speaking directly to the flower buds, “warmer times will come.” She shook her head. What was going on with her?

                She knocked gently on the large doors, still not sure this is what she wanted to do. One of the Schnee family assistants, a middle-aged woman with silver hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, answered the door.

                “Hi, Haizea,” Winter said nervously.

                “Winter, wow, nice to see you! We weren’t expecting you!” Haizea exclaimed, her blue-grey eyes shining. She was clutching a clipboard, definitely containing the schedules of the Schnee family members and the employees that worked in the house. She was already scribbling away on it, obviously trying to account for all of the changes that Winter’s presence would cause.

                “Thanks, I’m just…dropping in for a visit,” she said. She was afraid she sounded unconvincing, because there was hesitation in Haizea’s voice when she answered.

                “Oh, yes, of course…well, your father in his office, and your mother is in the sitting room,” Haizea informed her. Winter nodded. That was pretty typical of a Saturday morning in the Schnee family.

                “What about Weiss?” She asked. The age difference had rendered the two girls distant from one another when Winter still lived at home, but she was hoping that their interests would start to converge as they got older. To be perfectly honest, Weiss was Winter’s best chance at a positive human connection in her childhood home.

                Haizea seemed taken aback by her question. She glanced down at her clipboard, then said, “Your sister…is away on a school trip.”

                Winter sighed, “I see. Well, I’d like to see my father, if you don’t mind.”

                “Of course,” Haizea nodded. Winter would have walked up there herself, but her father preferred to have an assistant screen and present guests to him, even his own children. They climbed the staircase and walked briskly through the long maze of hallways leading to her father’s office. The last hallway contained portraits of the firstborn son from each generation of Schnees. There was no portrait after her father’s.

                “Mr. Schnee, may I present your eldest daughter, Winter,” Haizea said, with a small bow.

                “Thank you, Haizea,” her father replied, without looking away from his computer screen. The assistant bowed again, then left the two of them alone. “What brings you here, Winter?” he asked, looking at her and gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

                She became very conscious of the physical presence of Qrow’s note, which she had tucked into a chest pocket in her jacket. She did not have an answer to this question. “I—I came to tell you I got promoted,” she said finally, hoping he would glance at the new badge on her jacket.

                He didn’t. He gave a small chuckle and went back to typing on his computer. “And here I was hoping you had come to tell me you changed your mind about the military,” her father replied.

                It was good he wasn’t looking at her, because she balked at the comment. She was visibly shocked, but he didn’t seem to notice. “No, I—I’m not just going to _change my mind_ about the military. I’ve been working towards this since I joined the Academy years ago. I’m not just going to wake up and want to do something different,” she shot back. This wasn’t entirely true, but she was absolutely sure she was not ever going to wake up and want to come back to work for her father.

                Mr. Schnee gave a long sigh, took off his glasses, and rubbed his forehead. “Look, Winter, Ironwood is a good man and a friend of mine. He does good work. But you’re a Schnee, and you belong with us. You belong here.”

                Winter had nothing to say. This conversation had been played out hundreds of times since she first took the exam to join the Huntress Academy.

                Her father put his glasses back on. “I’m not concerned. Lots of girls think they know what they want to do at your age,” he said, with a tone of unmistakable condescension.

                Winter clenched her fists and took a breath to speak. Her father had turned back to his computer, and either did not notice how furious she was, or simply did not care. “So, you’re saying,” she said, “You know what I want to do better than I do?”

                He looked her in the eyes, his gaze hard and steely. “I know what’s best for you. What’s best for the family. Yet you refuse to cooperate.”

                “I cooperate plenty,” she shot back.

                “If only that were the case,” her father sighed, “I let you have far more freedom than you deserve. My father never would have allowed you the luxuries you have today.”

                Each sentence made Winter more and more furious. The luxury…of joining the military? She couldn’t tell if her father had gotten angrier with her as the years went on, or if her tolerance for his treatment had lowered. Either way, she had no retort.

                “And in repayment for my kindness, I get to pay for Duncan Armstrong’s hospital bill,” her father said, crossing his arms.

                “I—I—you—“ Winter tried to speak, but her mind was spinning.

                “You dislocated his nose. He had to have surgery,” he explained. In truth, Winter had not known the extent of his injuries following their second date. “Please, give him my best.”

                That was enough for her. As she stormed out of the room, she replied, “No. I won’t.”

\--

                Winter had delayed her second date with Duncan Armstrong as long as she possibly could. The last week in September, she had run out of excuses, and returned to the Calypso Pub after work one evening.

                Later, she would wonder if the evening’s events had been…exacerbated by the fact that she had taken a bad hit while sparring that day. On the way, she had checked under her shirt to see the bruise already blossoming below her collarbone. Duncan winked at her, and she shuddered.

                “I feel like we talked too much about me last time,” Duncan said as they settled in their seats, “I want to know more about you.”

                Winter visibly winced at the idea. “Like what?” she asked. After her conversation with Qrow about her first date with Duncan, it was hard not to think of him.

                “Like, uh,” he began, having not though this far ahead, “do you see your family often?”

                She rolled her eyes. Of course. “No, actually, I don’t. My father is quite busy with the business.” Winter regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, though. She had given him an opening to talk about her father. It became clear over the course of the conversation that followed that Duncan was interested in learning more about her _father,_ not Winter herself.

                Most military men she had gone on dates with had asked why she joined the military instead of working for her father. It was annoying at best, but most of the time she could chalk it up to genuine curiosity. Most, though, lacked Duncan’s persistence.

                “So, do you see yourself, like, staying in the military?” He asked, and the question caught her off guard. Since she had met Qrow in the spring, doubt had crept into her mind a few times. But there was no way this idiot could be that observant, right?

                “Well, yes,” she began cautiously, “I’ve worked very hard to be where I am today.”

                “So when you, like, get married and have kids and stuff, you’ll want to keep working?”

                There it was. Duncan looked concerned, even puzzled at the notion. During their first date, Winter had been exhausted, and in retrospect, that had probably benefited him. But not today. She pain in her chest had grown, and she felt vaguely feverish. Fury mixed with pain in her mind as she tried to speak rationally.

                “Yes,” she said, unable to come up with anything else that wouldn’t insult or confuse him any further. She took a small sip of her whiskey old fashioned. This night couldn’t be over any sooner. There was no way she could handle a third date, even if her father had encouraged it.

                Duncan still seemed confused. “Huh,” he said, “You seem pretty set on this military thing, huh?”

                “It certainly seems that way,” she replied, her voice positively chilly. Internally Winter was a bit proud of herself for achieving the trademark Schnee tone: emotionless, cold, and firm. It would all be undone a few moments later.

                Duncan smiled slyly, and Winter braced herself, but it wasn’t enough. “Well, since that’s the case, I’m sure I could put in a good word with Ironwood for you,” he winked, “Of course, if you do a few _favors_ for me later tonight.”

                Winter was horrified, speechless. Her face felt warm and the pain in her chest was nearly blinding now. She stood up, turning around to leave, but then she stopped. With her back to Duncan, she did a few mental calculations very quickly. The smart, logical, Schnee-like thing would be to leave, go to the infirmary and get her injury checked out, and then file a formal complaint describing how a superior officer had offered potential advancement in exchange for sexual favors. That was what she should do.

                Instead, she spun on her heels and flew towards Duncan in a few large bounds. She grabbed him by his jacket and slammed him against the wall. Winter was physically smaller than him, but that didn’t seem to matter to either of them. He was terrified and more confused than ever. She searched her mind for a clever retort or threat, but she was blinded by pain and rage. “How dare you,” was all that came out, in a deadly whisper as she pressed him against the wall.

                The other patrons had fallen silent, and even the band had gone quiet to stare at the commotion occurring. The restaurant staff were whispering amongst themselves, clearly too frightened to approach her. Winter tossed Duncan onto the table like a ragdoll, where she supposed later, he had dislocated his nose as he fell face-first. She finished her drink, which luckily hadn’t been disturbed, and then walked out.

\---

                Remembering the date had only heightened Winter’s anger at her father. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had set up the whole thing from the beginning, working with the Armstrong patriarch to try and arrange a marriage. He had done it before.

                She hadn’t noticed where she was walking, but it made sense that she had wandered to the sitting room. Her mother was sitting pristinely in a plush burgundy chair, reading a book. Winter felt her anger deflate. She slunk into the room, collapsing into a chair next to her mother’s. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, and it made the room feel warm and comforting.

                “Haizea told me you were here,” her mother said, looking up from her book. Mrs. Schnee was one of the most beautiful women Winter had ever known. Even as she aged she remained looking youthful, and she and Winter were often mistaken for sisters. Today, her platinum blonde hair was in a long side braid, and she was wearing reading glasses in front of her ice-blue eyes. She always seemed to have an air of royalty about her. Even her dark red house coat was trimmed with gold and resembled a gown.

                Winter sighed, staring off into the distance. She was slumped down in the chair, sulking.

                “I’m guessing it didn’t go well with your father?” her mother asked, looking concerned. Winter shook her head, still not looking at her. “You know, he always means well. He’s great at running a business, but he’s still figuring out how to be a father. We’re both still figuring out how to be good parents. He really just wants what’s best for you.”

                _Why does everyone keep saying that?_ She asked herself. Her anger continued to subside, replaced by a feeling of utter hopelessness. She couldn’t even bring herself to speak.

                “It’s…been a while since you came home,” her mother said finally, closing her book, taking off her glasses and leaning forward towards Winter. “Why now? Did something happen?”

                Winter finally looked at her mother, instinctively touching her chest where Qrow’s note was tucked away. It was the second time someone had asked her that question today, and she was going to try to be more honest now.

                “Mom…why did you marry Dad?”

                Her mother seemed very surprised by the question. She took a minute to think. “Well, I was used to a certain…lifestyle that my family provided for me. I was just a model when I met your father, so it was as if…it was like there was a time limit on my ability to provide for myself. I didn’t have the skills to have the life I wanted. I wanted to be stable, and I wanted a good future for my children.”

                “Oh, I see…” Winter replied. What her mother hadn’t said was most telling of all. Winter thought she would skirt around the issue, until her mother leaned forward and took her daughter’s hands in her own.

                “Look, honey, it’s hard,” she said softly, “I know it is. When you’re a little girl all you hear about are princes and princesses and falling in love, but…” she paused, “…marrying for love, that’s all it really is. A fairy tale.” Winter looked unconvinced, so she added, “Think of your children.”

                Winter frowned. She struggled to speak, “What if—what if I’m not sure if I want to have children?”

                Her mother shook her head suddenly, as if she didn’t understand her words. She took a long look at Winter, then sighed. “Honey, being part of a family is like being part of a team. Especially a family as important as ours. You understand what being part of a team is like. Sometimes you have to put the needs of the team above your own needs, because of what’s best for everyone.”

                Winter drew her hands away from her mother’s. Her eyes burned with tears, but she didn’t want her mother to see her cry. “I should go,” she said, standing up. Although her mother had been gentler, her words had hurt much more than her father’s. Winter had a million questions, a million protests tucked away in her mind (and her jacket pocket), but instead she said, “Thanks, mom.”

\---

                Winter wanted to be alone. She walked through the halls until she reached her room, but it didn’t feel like her room anymore.

                She flipped the light switch on. All of her things had long since been packed away in large boxes by the Schnee estate employees, so what was left was her twin-sized bed, an empty bookshelf, an empty desk, and a few posters on the walls. One was an Atlas military recruitment poster that she had stolen from school, featuring a much younger Ironwood. In her current state, it bothered her. She took the pins out of the wall and set the poster face down on the desk, disturbing the layer of dust that had accumulated over the years of vacancy.

                Winter had visited home occasionally over the last few years, but this was the first time since graduating that she had returned to her room. Now she remembered why. When she was here, she couldn’t escape the expectations she had had for herself as a child.

                She sat down on her bed. She had left the sitting room so that she could cry in privacy, but the tears wouldn’t come now. There was an uncomfortable lump in her throat.

                “I’m sorry,” she said, somehow trying to speak to her childhood self, “I know I’m not quite what you were hoping for,” she sighed, and the tears finally came, “I thought—I thought I could have everything I wanted as long as I worked hard enough.”

                Her own disappointment weighed on her, compounding with her parents’. “I’m sorry,” she repeated to the empty room as she stood up and left.

                There was only one person left to talk to now. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be there to listen, but Winter wanted to talk to Weiss all the same. Her younger sister’s room was only down the hall from hers, but years ago it had felt miles away.

                The difference in the rooms was staggering, as it had always been. By nature, Winter was emotional and flighty, and her room had always been a cluttered, disorganized mess. Even as a child she had always been moving a mile a minute, with no time to organize books, papers, or even weapons. Her parents had _hated_ it. They hired a full-time staff member just to keep her room clean, but even they couldn’t keep up with Winter.

                Weiss’ room, on the other hand, was immaculate. Everything was straight and neat and perfectly in its place, and it was all white. It was clear just from a cursory glance that Weiss was very proud of being a Schnee. Their family emblem had been painted on the wall above her bed, and was present on nearly everything else she owned. She had even drawn it on the full length mirror that hung next to her closet.

                It was also clear that Weiss was very sophisticated in her tastes, especially considering that she was about to turn thirteen later this year. On her desk was a set of high quality stationery and expensive pens, with which she had been practicing her penmanship.

                However, one thing did not seem to belong with the rest of the room, and it caught Winter’s eye. Next to her mirror, there was a poster of a woman with a sword set on a dark background. After a few seconds, Winter recognized her. It was Coralie Desrosiers, a legendary Huntress from Atlas. Almost one eighty years ago, she had led other Hunters and Huntresses in a charge to protect the kingdom while the military was waging war elsewhere. The poster was a larger-than-life artistic rendering of her torso as she spun, sword in hand and her long pink ponytail trailing behind her.

                Winter was struck by the poster’s presence in her sister’s room. Frantically, she glanced around, looking for more evidence that Weiss might not be the perfect Schnee after all. But this poster was the only clue. It still meant a lot, though, knowing that Weiss might look up to Huntresses. Maybe she looked up to Winter.

                Waves of guilt hit her in the chest. She could justify avoiding her parents, but Weiss didn’t deserve it. Winter could admit internally that she had been jealous of Weiss even when they were younger. The fact that she was born female seemed to be the only thing keeping her from being the perfect heir for the Schnees, but she now realized that it was possible Weiss was cracking under the same pressures that Winter had.

                She sat down at Weiss desk, and selected a pen. Very conscious of her penmanship, Winter wrote on a stray piece of stationery,

                _I’m sorry I haven’t been home much. I hope you’re having fun on your school trip. I—_ here, she paused— _I want you to know I’m proud of you. Being a Schnee is not always easy, though people might tell you otherwise. I want you to know there are a lot of paths you can take in life. Mom and Dad love us and want what’s best for us, but only you get to decide. If you ever want to talk to someone else, I’m not far away._

_I hope you get the chance to try a lot of things and figure out what you want to do, what path you want to take._

_I hope we both do._

_Much love,_

_Winter_


	5. Priorities

                In the fall, a few weeks before the Vytal Festival, Ozpin summoned Qrow to his office for a private meeting. Qrow had spent the summer teaching a course at Signal and spending time with his nieces. He had been keeping himself busy in the hopes of staying away from Atlas and his feelings, so he was not expecting Ozpin to say what he did.

                “It’s time to talk,” he said with a small sigh, “about Winter.”

                Qrow was so caught off guard that he physically jumped backwards. “What?” he sputtered, “Who? What? Who’s Winter?”

                Ozpin sighed longer this time. “It seems you did not take care of it on your own, as I advised.”

                Qrow gave up on denial. His eyes turned to the floor. “How did you find out?” It had been over a year since he first met Winter now, and this was the first time he had spoken to anyone but her about it.

                “You missed your flight back from the security mission you took in March,” he replied, “So I did a little investigating. I understand your need for privacy, but with such a…delicate diplomacy situation hanging in the balance, I had to make sure you hadn’t been compromised. I didn’t want anyone else involved, so I did it myself.” He pulled something up on his scroll. “I first looked at the Atlas specialists who had also signed up for the security mission, but nothing stuck out to me. That is, until I looked at the list of promotion recipients.”

                Qrow’s heart sank, even though he already knew that Ozpin knew. When he thought back to that night, he was full of indecipherable feelings.

                “A name caught my eye. Not just because of Miss Schnee’s familial status, but in fact, I had come across it before,” Ozpin displayed a section of a report in holographic form right before Qrow’s eyes. He sat down in the chair across from Ozpin’s desk to get a closer look at it. “A year ago, one of our junior operatives spotted you—I quote—‘ _tormenting_ ’ Miss Schnee at a private military shooting range,” he informed Qrow, with the smallest hint of a laugh in his voice.

                “Uh…”

                “I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. You’re certainly not above tormenting Atlas military specialists without reason.”

                Qrow furrowed his brows. “Aren’t you going to say ‘no offense’ or something like that?”

                “No,” Ozpin replied with a small chuckle, “Some offense is meant. Regardless, it is clear your problem with Miss Schnee has continued much longer than your usual…interpersonal…conflicts.

                “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Qrow replied, still not able to look at Opzin, “I’ve been in Vale all summer.”

                Ozpin pushed his glasses up his nose as he began, “That is true. And I’m sure your strategy of avoidance works out in most other cases,” he rested his elbows on his desk, pressing his fingertips together, “but not this time. As I’m sure you know, the Vytal Festival is quickly approaching, and it will be hosted in Vale this year. As I’m sure you _don’t_ know, we will be hosting a World Education Summit to…show support for Atlas Academy in their time of…controversy.”

                “Right, why wouldn’t we support Atlas pushing Hunters and Huntresses directly into the military and calling them ‘special ops’?” Qrow shot back, getting distracted from the point Ozpin was trying to make.

                Ozpin sighed, “Yes, Qrow, you’ve made your feelings on the matter quite clear. That’s not up for debate. The issue at hand now is _your_ issue—I received a detailed itinerary from Ironwood early this morning. Lieutenant Coronel Schnee will be in attendance.”

                “I don’t see how it’s an issue,” Qrow said, folding his arms across his chest, “Since I’m not going to be going to some stupid cocktail party ‘Education Summit’ bullshit.”

                Ozpin seemed to be getting frustrated now. “It _is_ an issue, because you _are_ going to the Education Summit. That is not up for debate either _._ You’re a Hunter and a tenured professor at Signal. But if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one,” he sighed, took a moment to breathe, then continued, “I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not well-equipped to help you deal with problems of this particular…nature. I wanted someone we could both trust, who could speak to you like an equal, so I’ve brought in Glynda.”

                He gestured to the elevator, where Glynda arrived right on time, as she usually seemed to. If Ozpin had indeed brought in Glynda to be a mediator, she had not been informed of that fact. She marched in, her pale face flushed and her heels clicking furiously against the floor.

                “No,” Qrow began, standing up and looking around at both of them, “Fuck this. Fuck all of this.”

                Glynda was beyond furious. “No, fuck _you,_ ” she stomped towards him, waving her riding crop behind her all the while. She walked all the way up to him and pointed directly at his face, as if to physically direct her rage at him, “Things with Ironwood are tense enough as it is, the absolute last thing we need right now is you…screwing around with one of his officers! And a Schnee, no less! What the hell are you thinking, Qrow?”

                He shot a glance at Ozpin, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug. Qrow was beginning to suspect that he had been fully aware that Glynda would react this way. Like he was being punished, or something.

                “If there’s tension with Ironwood, I’m sure _you’re_ not helping much either,” Qrow replied to her, rising to the occasion but remaining calm.

                She opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. She was clenching her teeth, holding back a retort.

                “You have no idea what’s at stake here!” She shouted at him, clenching her fists now too, “We could be facing another Great War if this summit doesn’t go well, but you can’t—or won’t—think of anyone but yourself!”

                Qrow frowned, pressing his lips together. “Well when you put it that way, it sounds shitty.”

                She was practically growling at him now, “It _is_ shitty!”

                “Well what about her?” Qrow replied, raising his voice slightly, “She’s just as much a part of it as I am!”

                “Is she?” Glynda questioned, “Because it looks an awful lot to me like she’s not. She’s not travelling to Vale half a dozen times a year on petty missions, wasting everyone’s time.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “And anyway, you’re old enough to know better. She’s…not.”

                Qrow burst out in a fit of raucous laughter. When both Ozpin and Glynda looked at him quizzically, he explained, “Oh man. She would be so mad if she heard you say that.”

                Glynda’s tone shifted to a calmer one, as if she had decided it would be better to persuade him to see reason. “Qrow, you’re a valued member of our group,” she said, “We have no desire to interfere with your personal life, trust me. But it’s a lot to risk for a casual relationship—if there was ever a falling out, it could make relations with Altas much more strenuous.”

                He made a mental note to never mention that there already _had_ been a falling out. “Okay, but what if,” Qrow asked, in an uncharacteristic moment of honesty, “What if it’s not casual? What if I…” he trailed off.  

                Ozpin and Glynda shared a knowing glance, which annoyed him. She folded her arms, sighed, and said, “Well, if that’s the case, please be…discreet.”

                But Qrow had snapped back into his normal self. He laughed, made a rude gesture, and left.

\---

                Qrow’s false confidence fell away as he walked through Beacon’s campus. He felt uncomfortable and vulnerable, even violated. Since their last meeting, he had made a habit of blocking Winter from his mind. Ozpin and Glynda had caught him off guard, and he had been in a bad mood to begin with.

                Right before meeting with Ozpin, Qrow had a minor falling out with Taiyang. Tension had been brewing between them for a while. The real problem seemed to be Taiyang’s growing suspicion that Qrow knew of Raven’s whereabouts, but that’s not what they discussed.

                “I’m happy that you can be here for Yang and Ruby,” Taiyang had said, “But it would be nice if you came around more than just when it suits you. They’re young, it’s hard for them to understand, especially after they’ve lost…so much already.”

                “I mean, that’s part of the job, you know that,” Qrow replied, exasperated.

                Taiyang had anticipated his response. “I do. But then, don’t pretend that you’re putting your family first and your job second.”

                Why was everyone questioning his priorities today? As he strolled through the crisp fall air, there was only one person in the whole world he wanted to talk to. Qrow had talked to her about things like this for about a decade and a half, but in recent years she hadn’t been around to hear it.

                Since her funeral, he hadn’t visited the grave of Summer Rose. But they did have a special place together, a certain bench in Beacon’s courtyard. They had spent hours talking there at all times of day and night when they were in the academy together. The two had begun the habit when Raven and Taiyang first got together and wanted to spend a great deal of time alone.

                He sat down on the northern half of the bench, resting his arm across the top and turning to face the other side slightly. There was no dedication, no plaque on the bench in Summer’s memory, but Qrow preferred it that way.

                “I’m surrounded by idiots and assholes,” he explained to her. “Although you’re probably right, I’m an asshole too. But you’re no angel yourself,” here she would have giggled.

                “I wish I could talk to you about Winter,” he admitted, “You always helped me make sense of things. Whenever we talked here, you made me feel like everything would be okay. And it always was,” he laughed, “But the things we talked about back then were so…stupid compared to now. Everything is so fucked up. Especially me.”

                He sat in silence for a while. “I think you would like her, though. She’s a bit standoffish, but I think it’s mostly because she’s sensitive. She’s so smart though, it’s kind of incredible. She’s a mess,” he smiled, “but you always loved messes. Like me, and Raven. You always wanted people to be better off because they met you.”

                “Ruby is just like you,” Qrow said, his eyes suddenly watery, “She’s always ‘saving’ her dolls. I’ll give her and Yang a hug for you. You’d be so proud of them. I guess…I don’t know if you’d be proud of me.”

                “Thanks, Summer,” he said as he stood up, “Until next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned, on Sunday May 29th I'll be posting Chapter 6: An Opportunity. Thanks, everyone!


	6. An Opportunity

                Winter was elated. She had already been on cloud nine for a couple of weeks now, since General Ironwood offered her a last-minute invitation to the Vytal Festival and World Education Summit in Vale. She would have guessed that nothing could possibly make her happier than being recognized as “an outstanding Atlas Academy alumna and a shining example of a special operative.” She doubted that Ironwood actually wrote that himself, but it meant the world to her nonetheless.

                But the moment she boarded the ship bound for Vale, she was ecstatic. Seated at a small table by herself, was Darya Balik. “Winter!” She called out, just as happy to see her.

                Darya Balik was one of Winter’s closest friends and the leader of Winter’s former academy team, known as Team DAWN. She was of medium build and olive complexion, and her thick, navy blue hair fell in waves nearly to her waist. Her eyes were such a dark blue that they were almost black, and she wore thick glasses with silver rims. She had been born without a left arm, so she had worn a prosthetic all of her life. That had gotten her interested in technology as a small child, which eventually led her to becoming a military technology development specialist after graduating from the Academy. Her current prosthetic was fully mechanical and had a dizzying amount of functions. There was a running joke among them that it was the most advanced piece of technology that the military had, and it probably wasn’t too far from the truth.

                The two women embraced. “What are you doing here?” Darya asked, still holding Winter’s forearms.

                “I came just to steal your thunder,” Winter joked, “I couldn’t let you be the youngest one invited to the Education Summit.”

                Darya rolled her eyes, “You’re _six months_ younger than me. If you’re trying to steal our thunder, good luck. We’ve got an amazing presentation on the aura technology experiments we’ve been doing.”

                They sat down at the table, and Winter explained, “Honestly, I’m still not sure why Ironwood invited me, I only heard about it a couple weeks ago.”

                Darya flipped her hair behind her shoulders, before giving her a teasing tap on the shoulder. “You know why! You made history with that shiny new promotion of yours.”

                Winter laughed, “Only because your division doesn’t rank. You know you could have been in the Stealth division with me if you wanted to.”

                “Maybe,” she admitted, “but there’s no way I could stand to be away from _these insufferable nerds,_ ” she turned her head and raised her voice to get the attention of her team members, and they all laughed. Winter was a bit jealous, she hadn’t found any connections like that yet, and especially not like the one she had with Darya. “So what’s been keeping you so busy?” Darya asked, resting her forearms on the table and leaning forward, “You’ve been off the grid for months.”

                Winter tilted her head back and forth, trying to phrase her reply exactly right. “I started taking more missions outside of Atlas after my promotion. I guess I’m getting a little stir crazy,” she added, which was almost the complete truth.

                “ _You’re_ getting stir crazy in Atlas? _Winter Schnee?_ ” Darya asked, incredulous. A voice came over a loudspeaker announcing that they would be taking off shortly. Then a mischievous smile spread across her face. “Is that why you beat up Armstrong?”

                Winter sighed dramatically, putting her face directly into her hands. “I suppose you heard about that?”

                “The most high-quality gossip does reach my department eventually,” Darya explained, still chuckling, “And I really couldn’t pass up that delicate morsel. I really do miss living vicariously through your sexual misadventures.”

                Winter laughed and sighed again. “This wasn’t even the good kind of sexual misadventure. And I didn’t exactly ‘beat him up’. I…threw him on a table,” she explained, but it wasn’t convincing.

                “Right, that’s an important distinction,” Darya laughed, “Can I ask why? That bit of information got lost somewhere along the way. By the time it made it to us, we just found out you went on a date with him and he ended up in the hospital.”

                “Just for his nose,” Winter said, rolling her eyes, “Anyway, I’m happy to share that. The reason he didn’t file a report, let alone press charges, is because he offered to ‘put in a good word for me’ in exchange for ‘favors’.”

                “Yikes. But wait…didn’t you just get promoted above him?” she realized, laughing, “Man, that really gives the story a satisfying ending, doesn’t it?”

                They both laughed. “So what have you been up to lately?” Winter asked, trying to change the subject. Thinking of Duncan made her think of Qrow, which is something she promised herself she wouldn’t do anymore. Getting out of Atlas had helped, and she wondered if visiting new places filled the emptiness inside her that made her want him. It seemed to…mostly.

                Darya waved her hand, “Trust me, you don’t want to hear about that. I barely know how to talk to people who aren’t researchers anymore. We think we’re hot shit but we’re really pretty unbearable. What’s it like in the Stealth department? Murdered anyone interesting lately?” She rested her chin in her hands, looking enthralled. The plane took off, and they paused their conversation, giving even more anticipation to her reply.

                “Even if I had, I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” Winter replied, raising her eyebrows.

                “I guess it wouldn’t be the Stealth division otherwise,” Darya conceded, “I love this little ensemble, by the way,” she added, gesturing to Winter’s outfit. Although her primary focus was technology, Darya also had an interest in fashion bordering on obsessive. She sewed some of her own clothes, and her two areas of passion often collided into useful military garments.

                “Thank you, that means a lot from you,” Winter giggled. She was wearing an intricate light blue blouse and high-waisted charcoal pants. At the last minute, she had thrown on a matching blazer. “Ironwood’s message said to wear a ‘mindful business casual’ for our arrival…what the fuck does that even mean?” She asked, throwing her hands up.

                “Hey, beats me, but I bet Ironwood has even less of an idea than you do,” Darya answered. She was dressed in a bright blue blouse, a grey vest and grey slacks. Winter figured she was in the clear, since Darya was a good example to follow.

                Winter sighed, looking dejected. “I have to admit, I’m a bit nervous,” she said, looking down at the table, “I really still don’t know why I’m here.”

                “Are you serious?” Darya asked, leaning forward and raising her eyebrows, “You wouldn’t have been invited if you didn’t belong with the best of the best.”

                But she wasn’t quite sure. “I guess, I just…” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “I worry that people might think of me as a…’business opportunity’.” It was more than that, but the last thing in the whole world that Winter felt like talking about was Qrow.

                Darya did the mental calculations in a second, her dark blue eyes flicking up and down and back and forth across Winter’s face. “I know people…freak out…about you being a Schnee sometimes, but you’re the real deal. Why is this coming up now? Did something happen?”

                Winter would have had to submit to her interrogation if they hadn’t been interrupted by Ironwood himself. Neither of them were paying attention to their surroundings, so they were only alerted to his presence when he laid a gloved hand on their table. Winter physically jumped in her seat, Darya merely shook her head suddenly.

                “Balik,” he nodded at Darya, then Winter, “Schnee, if I could speak to you both for a moment.” Winter tried to keep herself from quivering with intimidation. She hadn’t seen Ironwood in person except for various military ceremonies, and now he was about to speak to her and her best friend personally.

                “Of course, General, sir,” Darya replied, thankfully. General Ironwood pulled an empty chair from a nearby table and sat down, placing a small binder on the table.

                “First of all,” Ironwood began, “Congratulations to you both. It is a great honor to represent Atlas at the Vytal Festival, especially at the Education Summit being held for the first time this year. Since you two have not attended before, I wanted to speak with you about the itinerary, and some people of interest that you might encounter.”

                Winter suddenly felt uncomfortable. Surely not Qrow, right? Vale was a big kingdom, surely… Darya sensed her discomfort, and glanced at her again. She seemed to be trying to scan Winter and decipher exactly what was going on in her head, with some difficulty.

                “We will arrive in Vale around noon, there will be a few hours to settle into the accommodations that Beacon has provided for us before presentations begin,” he nodded at Darya, “Lieutenant Coronel Schnee, I know you are not giving a presentation, so you are not required to attend, but I would appreciate if you accompanied me, if you are so disposed.”

                Winter was taken aback, “Of—of course, sir.”

                “Thank you, I look forward to it. Ms. Balik promises that it will be enthralling,” General Ironwood gave Darya a small smile.

                “Oh, it most definitely will be, General,” Darya assured him, “I’m sure we’ll steal the show.”

                “Excellent,” he replied, “After the presentations, there will be a break, then a formal evening meal and reception. Both will be outstanding networking opportunities, but like any mission, you should come prepared with information.” He gestured at the binder, “I want all of my soldiers to benefit from my knowledge and experience.”

                He opened the binder. The first page was a profile, featuring a man with grey hair and glasses. “This is the professor of Beacon Academy, Ozpin. He’s a good friend of mine…” He went on to describe each person who would be attending the Summit. He covered their areas of interest and in some cases, topics to avoid. He turned to a page with a pale woman with blonde hair pulled into a tight braid, glasses, and a severe look on her face. “This is Glynda,” he explained, “Probably just don’t talk to her.”

                Just when Winter sensed that Ironwood was nearly finished with the attendees, and she was in the clear, it happened. He turned the page, and a feeling like ice rushed through her veins. Her stomach dropped. There he was, giving the camera a mischievous grin that suggested he had just thought of something insulting to say to the person taking his picture.

                “This is Qrow Branwen,” Ironwood said, with a distinct sigh. Winter felt unnaturally stiff but tried to act normal, lest Darya notice. Since they were first on a team together in the Academy, Winter had been wholly unsuccessful in keeping secrets from her. “He’s a teacher at Signal Combat School,” he continued, “But he is still a full-time Hunter, taking on missions about half the time. He has a…unique style of fighting, utilizing a sword and scythe combination weapon. Unarmed he is much more vulnerable.”

                When speaking of the others, at this point Ironwood had delved into what to talk about if approached by the given person at the Summit. This time, he deviated from his format.

                “Professor Branwen…” General Ironwood began, but he seemed equally as horrified by that phrase as Winter was, “…Qrow is…notorious, in his own right.” He seemed to have difficulty phrasing what he wanted to say delicately. Darya was confused, so Winter tried to mimic her reaction.

                “What do you mean, sir?” Darya asked. Winter remembered fondly that she was often slow on the uptake when it came to matters of sexuality, and situations like these were hilarious to watch when Winter wasn’t as involved.

                Ironwood hesitated for a length of time that would have tempted her to laugh if she hadn’t been fixated on Qrow’s picture. “Qrow is...trouble,” he said, and he certainly had that correct, “He’s quite charming, but when charms my men and women, they tend to be…led astray. If you encounter him, proceed with caution. You certainly wouldn’t be the first bright soldiers to fall under his spell,” he said gravely, nodding to each of them.

                Winter didn’t remember any of the people Ironwood described after Qrow, because her mind was buzzing with static. Had she fallen under his spell? Who were the others? Had there been others since her?

                 “Do you feel more or less nervous now?” Darya asked after Ironwood left.

                “Less,” Winter answered. She added, quite honestly, “I’m actually excited.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the buildup to the little arc that's happening! Stay tuned, Wednesday June 1st will be Chapter 7: "Diplomacy"! As always, thank you for your continued support! :)


	7. Diplomacy

                Qrow had always hated suits. It didn’t help that events that required one to wear a suit were usually things he hated anyway. Nonetheless, he had argued incessantly with Ozpin about what he was going to wear to the Education Summit dinner and reception, until Ozpin threatened to have Glynda herself dress him. “You’re being much more difficult than usual,” the headmaster had sighed, “I hope that seeing Ms. Schnee will somehow straighten you out.” Even beforehand, Qrow had a feeling that it wouldn’t.

                During the dinner, Qrow was seated at a small round table near the back of the hall. They were enjoying the third of a seven-course dinner, which was fantastic. But the beverages provided (water and an assortment of wines) left something to be desired. Luckily Qrow had brought a flask, filled to the brim with whiskey. It was definitely going to be that kind of night. He caught the young man sitting next to him eyeing it, and struck up a conversation.

                “Jealous?” Qrow asked, with a wink.

                “A bit,” the man admitted. He was very young, dressed in a suit that didn’t quite fit him. He had sleek, short black hair and a warm brown complexion that was flushed in his cheeks. “I could use something to take the edge off.”

                He handed the young man the flask, and he took a small swig. “Nervous?” Qrow asked.

                “Just a little,” he replied, visibly quivering. He offer Qrow his hand, “Kapila Bhattacharya. I just started teaching at Sanctum Combat School in Mistral.”

                “Qrow Branwen,” he said as they shook hands. He looked across the room at Winter, who was sitting next to Ironwood. She hadn’t noticed him though, she was laughing at something Ironwood had said.

                “There’s no need to be nervous,” he said to Kapila, “The ‘important’ people here are just a bunch of pricks.” Glynda, who was seated on Ironwood’s other side, had spotted Qrow looking at Winter. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, nonverbally warning him.

                “Really?” Kapila asked, but Qrow was still staring at Winter. He had expected her to keep with Schnee identity and wear white. Instead, she wore a dark red dress with a high, professional neckline, but it hugged her curves in a most distracting way.

                “Yeah,” he replied, distantly. Winter’s long hair, which she normally wore in a ponytail, had been gathered up into a fancy up-do, with a few stray pieces that fell into curls. He wanted to touch her face so badly that he could feel an ache in his bones. Finally, he took a swig from his flask and turned back to Kapila, “Do you like teaching?”

                Kapila blinked, taken aback by Qrow’s question. “Yeah, I like it a lot. Why?”

                Qrow offered him the flask again. “Then, don’t let anyone else drag you into any other bullshit. ‘For the good of the kingdom’ or the ‘good of humanity’ or some shit. Teaching is good for humanity. If you’re any good, they’ll pick you out, and they’ll make you try to juggle being a Hunter, a teacher, having a family, and whatever else you want to do in life. And in the end, you can’t do any of it, and you’ll have nothing and no one.”

                “Damn, dude,” he replied, taking a drink from the flask.

                “And on top of it, you’ll have to do more shit like this,” Qrow explained, then added with a wink, “This doesn’t really seem like your style anyway.”

                Kapila nodded, “You got that right. At least it’ll probably get better from here, right?”

                “Probably not,” Qrow said. At the time, he had no idea how right he was.

\---

                As soon as the reception began, Qrow was on the hunt. Vale’s largest convention center had been converted into an elegant-looking place with assorted desserts and alcohols on tables around the edges of the hall, and the whole room was decorated with gold banners and crystal chandeliers. It felt even more like a hunt because he was fully armed, with his sword on strap slung across his shoulder. Ozpin had felt that putting him on security duty would help him stay focused. It didn’t.

                He spotted Winter across the hall, talking to another young woman with dark blue hair in a large group of people. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to say, let alone how Winter would react, but he assumed he’d figure it out.

                As Qrow made a beeline for her, Glynda suddenly appeared and stopped him in his tracks. She managed to look menacing even in a long purple gown and her hair in big curls. Both her hands were on her hips, and there was a very particular look on her face. She was about to yell at him.

                Thinking quickly on his feet, Qrow bowed and then said, “Why yes, madam, I would be honored to have this dance.” He offered his hand. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, but she took it. They fell in line with the other dancers, casually waltzing.

                “Is there an ounce of self-control anywhere in your entire body?” She asked, her eyes narrowed.

                “Absolutely. I just ignore it most of the time,” he replied, chuckling.

                Glynda sighed, her face melting from anger to concern. “Qrow, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you get hung up on someone like this.”

                Qrow’s face fell. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘never’,” he mumbled, then shook his head.

                She searched his face with her eyes, pressing her lips together. “Look, I understand what it’s like to…want someone you can’t have.”

                “I’m sure you do,” he replied as they danced, “And I’m sure you’re very much an adult about it.”

                “I am,” her eyes narrowed, “Because the safety of the world and diplomatic relations are _much_ more important than…what I want.”

                Qrow thought for a while as they waltzed. The small band was playing a lively tune, not at all fitting with the nature of their conversation. As he thought, something dawned on him.

                “Why do you guys always say that?”

                “What?”

                “Well,” he began, “Whenever you guys talk about relationships or feelings, it’s always about ‘diplomacy’ and ‘relations’ or whatever.”

                “That’s what it _is_ about, it’s—“

                “It’s bullshit,” Qrow interrupted her, “It’s just an excuse to run away.” He let go of her, and began walking over to Winter.

                As he approached, he realized that Ironwood was also a part of the group that she was in. Qrow smirked. That would make this part even more interesting. As he drew closer, he saw her glance at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t look surprised at all. Perhaps she had been watching him throughout the evening as well. She turned slightly, and he was floored by her dress again. It fell to her ankles, but it boasted a slit up the front of her leg that reached her upper thigh. He felt weak in the knees.

                Qrow finally reached her. He offered his hand, and said, “Excuse me, Miss…” he trailed off, giving her a chance to finish his sentence. She placed her hand in his.

                “Schnee,” she finished for him. Relief flashed across her face for an instant. He had given Winter the opportunity to pretend they didn’t know each other, and she had taken it.

                “Miss Schnee,” he repeated, with an added loftiness to his voice that only Ironwood would see through. Well, and Winter, of course. Out of the corner of his eye, he scanned Ironwood. The general was clenching his teeth in a way that reminded Qrow very much of Glynda. In fact, it looked like he was clenching his entire body as he was forced to watch what was happening. Ironwood could not interfere, lest he reveal that he knew Qrow as well as he did. “May I have this dance?” he asked.

                “Absolutely,” she replied, with that familiar twinkle of desire in her eyes.

                They made their way to the dance floor, and the façade fell.

                “What are you doing here?” She asked in a low whisper as Qrow put his hand on her waist. The rush was just as intense as the first time he had touched her. “Are you drunk?” She asked, even softer.

                “Well, I was invited,” he replied shortly, then winked at her, “And no, not yet, but the night’s still young. I think a better question is what are _you_ doing here? At least I’m a teacher part of the time.”

                Winter sighed. Across the room, Qrow caught Glynda’s eye. She looked furious. She mouthed something at him, completely silent but unmistakable, “ _You stupid motherfucker.”_

                “Everyone’s insisting that it’s because of my promotion,” Winter said, “But…”

                Qrow squeezed her hand. “I know. Sorry. I actually didn’t mean to bring that up, if you’ll believe me,” he said, offering a smile.

                Winter smiled back, but it wavered. “I do,” she whispered. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. For a little while, all thoughts of Glynda and Ozpin and Ironwood were gone. It was as if everything else had stopped, and they were the only two people in the whole world. They shared a tender kiss, and then another. He prayed the moment would last forever.

                But of course, it didn’t.

                “Qrow...what are we doing?” Winter asked him. Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her over the waves of chatter and the music of the band.

                “I don’t know,” he replied, “do we have to know?”

                She gave a short sigh. “I’d _like_ to.”

                “Why?” Qrow asked, exasperated, “This is working, this is great.”

                “This is _working?_ ” she repeated, “I haven’t seen you in six months, you haven’t even contacted me.”

                Qrow narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows. “You didn’t contact me either. What’s this really about?”

                “What’s this—this is about exactly what I’m saying to you,” she shot back, “You can run around and do whatever you want whenever you want, but I have a real life to worry about.”

                He looked to the ceiling and chuckled, but it had just a touch of cruelty to it. For moments at a time, they could pretend, but it never seemed to last. “Of course,” he looked back down at her, “This is about your job.” They were at a normal speaking voice now. At least one of the other dancers nearby appeared to be eavesdropping. Well, besides Glynda.

                Winter made a noise of disgust, “This is just as much about my job as it is about _yours_. It’s like you don’t have the mental capacity to separate me from my work.”

                “To be fair, I don’t think you have the capacity to do that either,” he said, narrowing his eyes. Her face whole face was scrunched up in anger. It was kind of cute. “Six months ago you hated your job—“

                “I don’t _hate_ my job—“ she interrupted.

                “But you didn’t do anything about it,” he continued, “Everything is exactly the same. Well, no, it’s not. You’ve only gotten yourself deeper in since then.” He nodded at Ironwood and his associates across the room, “I thought you were different than them, but I was wrong.”

                This infuriated her. She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket in her soft pale hands, and pulled him closer to her. This was surely meant to intimidate Qrow, but it only succeeded in arousing him.

                “Whatever you’re implying is baseless,” she growled, “What the Atlas military does is honorable.”

                “Keep telling yourself that, Winter,” Qrow placed his hands on hers and firmly removed them from his jacket. “It’ll give you all the excuses you need to keep from doing what you actually want,” he said, turning away from her.

                “That means nothing,” Winter replied, raising her voice to make sure he could hear her, “From someone who’s always running away from anything that might make them happy.”

                He stopped, and turned back to face her. There was no way she realized how effective her words had been. He had no words left to say, and it didn’t seem like she did either. She was standing a few steps away from him, her fists clenched. It was time to fight.

                “Enough!” Glynda stepped between them. The people who had been dancing near them had been trying to watch the scene, quite unsubtly. But a glance from Glynda had them all back to minding their own business. Qrow had a small glimmer of hope that that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t.

                Glynda grabbed Qrow by the jacket and Winter by the shoulder and did not let go. She dragged them both to the nearest exit, which luckily wasn’t too far away. He thought she was going to take them into the hallway, but she stopped just short of it. Qrow felt a hint of Glynda’s telekinesis as she tossed them both out the door, stumbling.

                Her eyes burned with a quiet fury. “If you two aren’t going to act like adults, you don’t get to be here.”

\---

                The rapid change in scenery had distracted them, and even Qrow had forgotten what they were arguing about in the first place. Instead, he was focused on Winter as she sat up against the wall of the hallway, looking flustered. She either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind the fact that he was staring at her as he tried to figure out what was going on in her head.

                All of a sudden, the realization hit him. “You’ve never been kicked out of anything in your entire life, have you?” he asked, with laughter in his voice.

                “I haven’t,” she admitted, “I don’t think I like it.”

                “Well, think about it this way,” he began, “Glynda didn’t care who you were or what your last name was. You accomplished something all on your own.”

                She smirked at him. “Only you would view getting _kicked out_ as an accomplishment,” she sighed, “We managed to be discreet for all of a few minutes. But the secret’s out now, for sure, and I have to deal with the ramifications.”

                Qrow stood up from where he had been sitting on the stairwell, and took a step closer to her. “Wanna fight?” he offered.

                “What?”

                “I’m trying to cheer you up,” he explained, “I’m kinda bummed we didn’t get to throw a few punches back there. And, knowing you, I bet you are too.”

                Winter examined him with her eyes narrowed. There was clearly too many things that she wanted to argue about, especially in what he just said to her, that she was having trouble deciding which one to start with.

                “It would have been more interesting than that stupid reception,” she mumbled as she stood up. She turned and walked a few steps away from him, then said, “But no, thanks.”

                Qrow sighed. Even though a little while ago they had arguing, it was frustrating to see her walk away. “Are you sure?” he asked. His pride felt somewhat broken even before the words left his mouth. She stopped, and turned around with a small smile on her face.

                Before he realized what was happening, she was flying at him with impressive speed, ready to strike. There was no time for him to block, so his semblance took over naturally. He turned into the bird that was his namesake, and his sword clattered to the floor. Winter sailed past him with a gasp. She dashed up the stairs to the landing, where she stood proudly with her hands on her hips.

                “You’re not going to be able to hit me like that,” she proclaimed, “And now that I know we’re using semblances…”

                “Wait,” Qrow said as he transformed back, but it was too late. Glyphs appeared everywhere on the ceiling, walls and floor. She caught him by surprise a second time, with a strike to the chest. She had used the glyphs to teleport to him. He was ready the next time, though. As she went to strike the same spot again, he blocked it with one arm and grabbed hers with the other as it flew back.

                As Winter wriggled out of his grasp and jumped backwards, the glyphs disappeared.

                “Seems like it takes a lot of concentration to use such a…robust semblance,” Qrow said as he approached her. His voice was a coy, teasing whisper as their faces were inches apart. “It would be a shame if I managed to distract you.”

                “Not a chance,” she whispered back. A glyph appeared underneath her, giving her extra height as she jumped up to balance on the railing of the stairs. For a moment, she teetered quite ungracefully. She laughed, “Okay, I’ll admit, I might be a bit drunk too.”

                “Really?” Qrow asked, pleasantly surprised, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

                “It was a boring party,” Winter confessed, and then they snapped back into battle. She flew at him from her perch on the railing, and they exchanged a few blows. Beforehand, Qrow would have guessed that they would be evenly matched, but her hand to hand combat skills far outpaced his.

                “I didn’t think they would teach you anything this useful at Atlas,” he said as he evaded a jab meant for a pressure point in his shoulder. He threw a lazy return punch, but she countered it and sent him spinning with his own momentum.

                Winter raised her eyebrows. “I’m in the Stealth division,” she explained, “Beating people up unarmed in hallways is kind of my specialty.” In fact, she seemed bored by it. “So, you like birds?”

                “What?”

                By the time Qrow asked for clarification, glyphs had appeared all around them. She seemed to be concentrating even harder this time, so he took the opportunity. He landed a soft blow just beneath her left collar bone. Not to hurt, just to prove that he could. But the moment he spent focusing on her instead of her glyphs cost him dearly.

                White birds, summoned using the glyphs sped at him from all directions, squawking and pecking at him. As Winter put some distance between herself and the birds, Qrow had an idea. He transformed, blending in effortlessly with the crowd of summoned birds. Suddenly, all the white birds disappeared. He almost realized the trap in time, but by the time he transformed back it was too late. Using a glyph to increase her speed, Winter launched herself at him with the full force of her body, knocking him to the ground.

                If landing on top of him was an accident, she didn’t act like it. “You beat me,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

                “I did,” she said in a coy whisper, still on top of him, “And I did it in a dress and heels.”

                “It was fun,” he confessed.

                She smirked at him, but the coyness was gone. “It always is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your kudos and comments, you all warm my heart and keep me going! :) I'm preparing to move back to the US later this month, so let's see how long I can keep up this update schedule. ;P Seriously your praise keeps me going! <3
> 
> Tune in this Sunday, June 5th, for Chapter 8: Ice Queen!


	8. Ice Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit of a doozy, and one of my favorite chapters that I've written to date. I hope you enjoy it!

                “Did I hurt you?” Qrow asked Winter.

                “Huh?”

                He had caught her by surprise. They were sitting on the stairs in the hallway of the Vale convention center, shortly after the conclusion of their fight. She had been rubbing her shoulder absentmindedly.

                “Oh, no, I just—dislocated my shoulder a couple months ago on a mission. Still bothers me sometimes,” she explained. Winter found herself temporarily overwhelmed by how attracted she was to Qrow as he lounged on the stairs, unbuttoning his jacket and loosening his tie.

                “It…takes a lot out of you,” Qrow said. Almost in response, he took a flask out from his jacket, and took a long drink. He offered it to her, saying, “Don’t worry, I have a backup.”

                Winter laughed. Two things were strapped to her right leg and completely hidden by her long dress: a long knife and a flask of her own. She lifted the hem of her dress to reveal this fact to Qrow and retrieve her flask, but he missed the point completely. She blushed.

                The presence of the knife seemed to register in his mind a few moments later, while Winter was taking a swig from her flask. “Man, I’m glad that wasn’t a knife fight,” he sighed, giving a small laugh.

                “I’ve been leaving Atlas more,” she said suddenly. The whiskey made her face feel warm. It felt like a confession, even to Qrow. Darya hadn’t been the first to react that way to Winter’s shift in missions, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. Honestly, even before now it had seemed stupid to her. There weren’t many Stealth missions to be had around Atlas, especially high-level ones.

                Qrow interrupted her train of thought as he scooted closer to her. He draped his arm around her shoulders, and the burning sensation in her face increased in intensity. “And what do you think of that?”

                “I…like it,” she admitted, “No one ever asked me that.” For a little while, it felt like they were a normal couple in a normal situation, discussing their feelings about a recent life change. She looked at him in his deep red eyes, feeling something like longing. Is this what things could be like? Could they have something like this? Was it even possible?

                “And here I thought you would be too stubborn to change,” he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

                “Don’t count on much more than that,” she laughed. There was another question on her mind, but it was buried so deep inside that only alcohol could let it out. She took another long drink, and said, “Although, I’ve been thinking about changing departments.”

                “Is that so?” He asked as he casually kissed her on the forehead. Winter was thoroughly flustered. “Well, it can’t be because you’re not doing well in Stealth.”

                “I’ve been thinking about my long-term career goals…who I want to be.” The whiskey was having a notable effect on her now, and made it much harder to articulate her thoughts. “Who do you want to be?” She asked, even surprising herself.

                The question seemed to catch Qrow off guard. He blinked at her, and with his other hand he reached out and touched the curl in her bangs that always seemed to distract him. Winter’s mind was spinning with exhaustion and intoxication, the combination of which had caused her to ask a question she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to.

                When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and sad. “Sometimes I forget how young you are,” he nearly whispered. He was quiet for a few more moments, then said, “I’ve been around long enough to know that you don’t get to _be_ anything. The world doesn’t let you. It’ll smack you down if you try, and man, it hurts. The best any of us can hope for is to _do_ something that matters to someone.”

                Despite the solemnness of his speech, Winter only smirked and shook her head. “You’re so full of shit, Qrow,” she said, rolling her eyes. He seemed taken aback by how casually she brushed him off, so she explained, “You don’t exactly strike me as a man of faith, but you seem to believe there’s some…some divine arbitrator holding you down.” Instead of criticizing him further, she decided to back down, “Is something…going on with you right now?”

                He took a deep breath and kissed her on the forehead again. Winter thought she might melt. She blinked slowly, feeling the pleasant spinning that the whiskey provided. Normally she wouldn’t have made such personal inquiries of Qrow. Since the promotion ceremony, each morsel of information she obtained made it harder and harder to let go when he left. Since he always did. But now that she had the excuse of alcohol compromising her judgement, she was greedy with desire to get to the parts of Qrow that he hid away.

                “I…had an argument with my brother-in-law,” he said slowly, with his eyes still level with the top of her head, not looking into hers. That was good, because Winter’s face of intoxicated bliss snapped into something like confusion.

                “Your…what?” She shook her head slightly, trying to clarify. Again, the idea of Qrow existing in a family beyond himself seemed impossible on its own. Even the words from his own mouth took a while for Winter to process and place into her mental file of what she knew about him.

                “My brother-in-law,” he repeated, which offered no clarification, “My…sister’s…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment. “I guess…the father of my sister’s child.” Winter shook her head almost imperceptibly, not quite understanding. “But he’s a lot more than that. We were a lot more than that. He, and my sister, and his wife, were the other three members of my team at Beacon.”

                Winter could not quite process the situation, so she waited patiently for Qrow to explain. All she wanted was to kiss him, to feel his body pressed against hers until she forgot what she was worried about in the first place, but instead, she waited.

                 “We were Team STRQ, and we were all that we could be. We were on top of everything, for a very short period of time. And—I hate to blame it on this, but—when Raven and Taiyang got together, everything started to fall apart. Right after we graduated, they had a child together—my niece, Yang—but she disappeared immediately after. The mothering life wasn’t really for her. It wasn’t long before Summer stepped in…”

                Winter was able to fill in the words that he couldn’t. That he had never been able to. “And you were alone,” she whispered, almost to herself. For just that moment, somehow Qrow’s pain ran deeper than her own. It plunged into the depths of her heart that she could not bear to open up to anyone else. She touched his face, trying to guide his eyes back to hers. “I’m so sorry, Qrow.”

                As she looked into his eyes, she wanted to tell him that it didn’t have to be that way anymore, that they could be together. But she couldn’t. She had almost worked up the courage to ask the question that weighed on her mind. Apparently her internal struggle was visible on her face, because he asked, “What’s going on with _you_?”

                “Ironwood…warned me about you,” Winter said with an odd tone in her voice. She tilted her head slightly. Qrow’s response did not go the direction she intended.

                He laughed. “Of course he did,” he seemed to stop and recall something for a moment, “And you had the balls to dance with me in front of him anyway! Good one, Ice Queen!” He took a long drink from his flask, then added, “That explains why he was giving me a death stare.”

                But Winter wasn’t laughing. She looked down and said, “I—he said that you put people under a spell, and then you ‘lead them astray’.” The feeling was inescapable, the pull was magnetic. His eyes, his hair, his shoulders, his chest—every fiber of her being ached to be closer to him, even though she knew it was a mistake.

                “That’s…probably true, depending on how you look at it,” Qrow said hesitantly.

                She had wanted to ask if there had been others since her, but now she didn’t bother. There was not a doubt in her mind. “I don’t know if I can do this,” Winter said, her voice faltering, “I think…you and I want different things.” Even to herself, the words didn’t quite feel real.

                “Why?” He asked, genuinely confused. “Is something wrong?”

                “No, I just…” _Have feelings for you,_ her brain filled in the words that she would not say. _And I’m sure you don’t._ Part of her wanted to go back to arguing, or even sparring. This was far more terrifying.

                “What do you want right now?” Qrow asked sternly. Winter stared into his eyes. She touched his hair, then ran her fingertips over his stubbly beard. She rested her hand on his chest, then finally tugged gently on his loosened tie. Then, she was honest.

                “I want this,” she said. He kissed her, and she finally melted.

\---

                Hours later, after the conclusion of the reception, Ozpin and Glynda headed to the hallway to examine the damage.

                “I wouldn’t be surprised if they destroyed the place,” Glynda mumbled, still annoyed. Ozpin, a few paces ahead of her, opened the door to the hallway.

                He sighed. “No, this is much worse.”

                “Oh good god,” she said as she came up behind him to peer into the stairwell. Qrow and Winter had fallen asleep on the stairs, tangled up in one another. Her head was nestled into his shoulder, and he had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other cradling her neck.

                “Something needs to be done,” Ozpin said with another sigh.

                “What _can_ we do? There’s no way Qrow will listen to us, we’ve already tried that.”

                “While that is true, we have another opportunity here. Qrow will not listen to reason, but I’m willing to bet that Miss Schnee will,” he turned to Glynda, “Surely you understand the situation she’s in.”

                Glynda frowned, her mouth tight, “I do. I wish I didn’t.”

\---

                Winter felt ashamed in the light of day. She had parted ways with Qrow after they woke, despite his protests. Putting her Stealth training to good use, she managed to make it back to her hotel room a few blocks away without being spotted. When she finally closed the door, she let out a long breath. She felt safe.

                When she was with Qrow, there only ever seemed to be one path forward. But now that she had managed to pull herself away from him, she realized that they had made a scene at a world-class formal event and then missed the rest of it. She had almost certainly missed out on the chance to make connections vital to her career advancement, all because she hadn’t been able to resist him. Ironwood had even called it an “outstanding opportunity”. Winter shivered. _Ironwood._

                She slipped into her bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror for a few moments. Her face and her appearance betrayed her every emotion in a very un-Schnee-like manner. A good portion of her hairdo had already fallen down, so she removed the last few pins and let her hair fall past her shoulders. For Winter, letting her hair down had always been a symbol of total vulnerability. Even her family had rarely seen it that way beyond her childhood. She washed off her smudged makeup, then peeled off the tight red dress. It wasn’t enough to see it on the floor, though. As she finished undressing, she packed it away into a small pocket in her suitcase. It was as if she hoped she was packing away all her secrets with it.

                Winter was horrified to find that even completely naked, she could still smell him on her. This time, _she_ was the only evidence. She climbed in the hotel shower, determined to wash it all away. She turned on the water as hot as it would go, and the bathroom quickly filled up with steam. Showers had been a peaceful escape for Winter since she was a teenager. Removed from the rest of the world, she would often work out problems and come to powerful conclusions in the safety and bliss of the hot water. But not this time. There was no easy answer to stumble upon—at least, not one she was satisfied with.

                She checked her scroll as soon as she finished her shower, filled with dread. As she suspected, she had a message from Ozpin, asking to meet him in his office in about an hour. Winter’s chest felt tight as she dried her hair and put it up in a perfect, tight bun. Even though it was far from necessary, she selected her Class A uniform, just in case—she shivered again— _Ironwood._ The thought filled her with paralyzing dread.

                Finally, she made her way to the headmaster’s office. Beacon’s campus was glowing with fall colors, but Winter couldn’t appreciate it yet. She felt like a zombie from lack of sleep, but was gripped by anxiety so severe that she was in physical pain. As she approached the elevator leading to Ozpin’s office, she wondered if Qrow would be in it. Maybe they could have one last private moment before the judgement that awaited them. But it was empty.

                As Winter stepped through the sliding doors, the sound of talking halted abruptly. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her. Ozpin was seated as his desk, with Glynda standing next to him, her arms crossed. Qrow looked as though he had been sitting in one of the chairs across the desk, but had stood up to make a point about something. He was pointing at Ozpin.

                For a moment, no one spoke. Then Ozpin gestured to the other empty chair in front of him, and said, “Miss Schnee, thank you for joining us. Please have a seat.”

                She walked across the room to the chair, her heels clicking on the floor. The silence was deafening. But at the same time, a wave of relief washed over her. No Ironwood.

                “I just want to clarify,” Glynda began, her tone strained, “That we’re not here to punish you—“

                “Good, because Ice Queen here has probably never been punished in her life,” Qrow cut her off, winking at Winter. It annoyed her, but there was a grain of truth to that. She had certainly been punished as a child for minor transgressions and her general disorganization. But never in the case of school or work had something like _this_ happened.

                Glynda let out a small sound like a growl, baring her teeth slightly. It was clear that Qrow had pissed her off before Winter had even gotten there. “—sit down, Qrow. And we’re certainly not ‘The Breakup Squad,’” she said looking directly at Qrow, probably quoting something he had said earlier. “We’re not working against you, I promise,” she said, turning back to Winter.

                “With the nature of your work, well, _our_ work,” Ozpin began, “Discretion is key. I’m sure you know that very well, Miss Schnee. I called this meeting to ensure that what happened last night at the reception does _not_ happen again. We can’t afford to have personal…issues come up in a professional situation like that. I wanted to underscore the seriousness of the situation without interfering in…” he gestured to the two of them, “ _this.”_

                Glynda unfolded her arms and stepped forward to speak directly to Winter, “Look, I understand how you must feel. But this could affect your career. Ironwood doesn’t know the whole story, we fed him an excuse about how Qrow said something disgusting to you and you yelled at him. Luckily that’s believable,” she folded her arms again, “but we won’t be able to cover up for you next time.”

                Winter’s mind shifted into full panic. She could hear her heart racing in her ears, could feel the blood pumping through her veins and her hands felt sweaty and numb. For a long moment, she imagined telling her father that she had been discharged from the military due to unprofessional behavior.

                “No, please,” she begged, “It—this—doesn’t matter. I’ll do anything, I swear. Please, please just don’t tell Ironwood.”

                Glynda didn’t respond, and Winter saw that she was looking at Qrow, so she turned. He had physically balked at what she said. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were narrowed. She felt her mouth fall open as she mentally untangled what had happened. She had hurt his feelings.

                “No—Qrow—I—you—I didn’t mean—“ she sputtered, suddenly wishing she could turn back time.

                He stood up and turned to leave, but not before saying, “No, I know _exactly_ what you meant, Ice Queen.”

                The nickname had been playful before, but now it rang too true. Was he right? Was she cold? The elevator doors shut behind him, and the sound pierced the silence. She couldn’t bear to face Ozpin and Glynda now, but she couldn’t imagine the hurtful words she would have to endure if she followed him.

                Ozpin and Glynda looked at one another, also unsure of how to proceed. Finally, Ozpin spoke. “I’m sure a peaceful solution is possible,” he said, trying to be both comforting and diplomatic. But the façade fell for a moment of honesty,

                “So far, it’s been like watching a cat play with a mouse. Or, I suppose, a bird.”

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> As a side note, I've accumulated a massive Qrowin playlist that I use for writing, which I would be happy to share on 8tracks if anyone is interested! I would just need some album art, so if anyone reading is an artist or graphic maker that would be willing to let me use something of theirs, I'm sure we could arrange something (maybe early access to the next chapter? ;) ).
> 
> Tune in Wednesday, June 8th for Chapter 9: Escape!


	9. Escape

                “Is something wrong?”

                “What?” Qrow asked, as he snapped back to reality. He was in a bedroom, dimly lit with candles. He could smell incense burning somewhere nearby.  

                “Are you…okay?” A young woman was in the process of taking his shirt off. She had warm, dark brown skin that glowed in the candlelight, big green eyes and lots of thick, purple hair that fell in tight curls. “You seem out of it,” she said, tilting her head and squinting at him.

                “Oh, no, I’m fine, I’m…” he trailed off, failing to make his case. He had one hand clutching her hip, and another in her hair. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he vaguely remembered taking it off of her at one point. “…tired,” he finished finally.

                The woman blinked, then asked slowly, “Do you…want a cup of coffee or something? We don’t have to do this if you’re not up for it.” Qrow shook his head to clear his mind. He could tell the woman—Viola, right?—thought he was losing interest.

                “No, no, everything’s fine,” he assured her, and she raised her eyebrows, “but coffee sounds great.”

                She chuckled, and gestured for the door to the living room. Qrow felt around in the dark, eventually finding a lamp to turn on. He really wasn’t interested in turning all the lights on, but she did a few moments later when she left the bedroom. He was irritated at first as he was blinded by the sudden lights, but his mood changed an instant later. Viola had returned from her bedroom wearing nothing but a black silk robe over some lacy lingerie.

                “Is it—“

                “Yes, it’s too late to change your mind about coffee,” she cut him off, wagging a finger at him, “I was hoping we could get to know each other a little anyway.”

                Qrow groaned inwardly. Now that he was being given time to think, his flight instinct was kicking in. He managed to resist by admiring her from behind while she made coffee. “Of course,” he said, choking on his words just a little.

                “So, Robin…what’s your last name?” Viola asked as she handed him a cup of coffee and sat next to him on the couch. She was so beautiful, but Qrow still felt a stab to the heart when she referred to his alias. Why would he continue to use it when it reminded him of Winter? He remembered that there had been an element of spite to it, almost as if he was trying to prove…something. Anything.

                “Collingswood. I’m from Vale,” he offered, so she didn’t ask. Qrow hoped for a moment that they weren’t in Vale, so that it wouldn’t sound strange. He had been going through the motions for a few months now, taking mission after mission all over the world. That alone had an effect on his memory and day-to-day functioning, but he had been drinking quite a bit more in recent months. It was probably going to get even worse, he realized in a brief moment of self-awareness, as the anniversary of Summer’s death approached.

                “Oh, Vale,” she replied with a pleasant sigh. It seemed he was off the hook so far. “It’s so beautiful there this time of year—“ What time of year was it? Probably still fall, right? Maybe early winter? “—with all the snow and ice on the trees.” Oh, alright. It was winter. Qrow shivered at the word.

                “Far too cold for me,” he said as he waved as his hand. That would excuse the shivering.

                Viola scooted closer to him on the couch, reaching through his half-unbuttoned shirt and placing her hand on his bare chest. “Not when you have someone to keep you warm,” she said in a coy whisper.

                Qrow was eager to get back to doing, well, anything that didn’t involve talking about himself. “Is that so?” He whispered back, trying to match her tone.

                “Definitely,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair. But unfortunately, she wasn’t finished interrogating him yet. “What do you do?”

                He was confused by the question initially. “What?”

                “Like, for a living?” She tilted her head as she asked. He vaguely remembered that she was a shopkeeper or something like that…had he picked her up while she was working? He couldn’t quite recall.

                “I work for a telecommunications company…doing market research,” he said, with barely a hint of hesitation in his voice. Viola tilted her head back the other direction. For just a moment, Qrow thought she (like Winter before her) had seen through his alias and was about to rip it to shreds.

                Instead, she looked excited. “So, wait, do you think you could help me with my scroll? There’s a problem I have where it—“

                “How about in the morning?” Qrow cut her off as he leaned in.

                For the first time, she didn’t seem to believe him. “Yeah, alright, whatever you say,” she said, rolling her eyes, but leaned in and kissed him anyway. A wave of relief washed over him as he could finally return to the blissful life of going through the motions.

\---

                Even in post-coital bliss, Qrow found himself lying awake. A nagging feeling tugged at the edge of his consciousness, as it had for…a while. He very deliberately checked his scroll, with the sole purpose of figuring out what date it was. The screen illuminated Qrow’s face and the area around it, informing him that it was December 17th. Viola, who was resting her head on his chest as she slept, winced from the sudden light. He quickly turned it off and stashed it away, not wanting to wake her.

                Viola was only the latest in a recent string of casual lovers and one night stands, each more unsatisfying than the last. In fact, he had begun to find himself bored by the sex itself. What he seemed to crave was company—but not the normal kind that could be found with strangers. He hated answering questions about where he was from or if he had any siblings or—god forbid—what his favorite color was. What he seemed to want was what he had right now, as Viola slept: silent companionship, a reassurance that he wasn’t totally alone in the world.

                He thought back to the current date. What Qrow really wanted to do was hurry home to Vale and spend time with Ruby and Yang during the winter holidays. But he still hadn’t managed to patch things up with Taiyang. It had been tense leading up to the Vytal Festival, but when Qrow had returned from the Education Summit drunk and angry, Taiyang had insisted quite firmly that the girls might need “a break” from their uncle.

                Qrow sighed. Perhaps, beneath all his stubbornness, he knew Taiyang was right. He was already juggling being a single parent and teaching, and it was possible that Qrow’s influence was doing more harm than good. Sometimes he considered swallowing his pride and apologizing to Taiyang, and trying to be a better uncle. When he was in that particular mood, he would remind himself that it was for his nieces’ sake. But deep down, Qrow knew that wasn’t true at all. He needed them a lot more than they needed him.

                “It can be hard to understand, I know,” Taiyang had said, “I know you didn’t have a…traditional family situation growing up.” That was putting it mildly. It had only been him and Raven, as far back as his memories went. They had floated from village to village outside the kingdoms until they found safety in Vale when they were about ten. By then, they had already been hardened by the world—stoic at best and jaded at worst. They had had acquaintances throughout their lives, even friends, but none quite like Summer Rose and Taiyang Xiao Long.

                His anger and frustration with Taiyang dulled slightly at the memory of being a part of Team STRQ. Through their actions, Summer and Taiyang had taught Qrow and Raven that people could care for them without expecting anything in return. Summer in particular had been a pillar of unconditional love and kindness. A few months after their formation as a team, Qrow was taken aback when Summer said she loved him.

                “Well, of course I love you,” she had said, “I love Raven and Taiyang too. Love isn’t always romantic,” she had explained upon seeing his face stricken with confusion, “And why should it be? People…people should always know that they’re loved.” Qrow had always thought of that as Summer’s motto. Sure, as team leader she had mediated disputes and been a part of disputes herself. Team STRQ had fought and taken out their frustrations on one another, as any team does. But no matter what else was going on, Summer always seemed to stop and remind everyone that she loved them. Always, right up until…the end.

                The grief gripped Qrow so tightly that it felt as though someone was clutching his chest. It was all he could do not to let tears fall, lest he wake the sleeping woman laying on him. The sadness was quickly replaced by anger. It was an empty, misdirected anger though. There was no one left to be angry at, not even himself. He wanted someone to fight, someone to blame, someone to punish for taking Summer away. But there was no one.

                It was this particular feeling that drove him to the beds of shopkeepers in the dead of winter. If loss was inevitable, the only thing he could reasonably pour his energy into was avoiding real human connections. Qrow knew consciously that this attitude was immature and the opposite of what Summer would have wanted. But something subconscious had taken over, something that he could only define as the fear of pain.

                Qrow’s brooding was interrupted by a tapping noise that rang through the bedroom. He scanned the room and identified the source as a black bird tapping its beak on the window almost…insistently.

                “What’s that?” Viola mumbled, not quite awake.

                “It’s nothing, just a bird,” he replied, stroking her hair as he slid a pillow underneath her head. Luckily, Qrow was an expert at escaping from a wide range of situations. “I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, kissing her cheek lightly. She smiled, so he was in the clear.

                He cracked open the window, and with the bird came a blast of cold winter air. Sure enough, the bird was holding a small piece of paper in its beak. This was one of the many strange ways that his sister communicated with him: through her friends in the Remnant bird community. Raven had no trust in the modern communication systems propagated by the kingdoms, and certainly not without reason. Qrow shooed the bird back out the window and shut it. Sure enough, he unfolded the piece of paper to find a mess of numbers written in Raven’s scribbled handwriting: coordinates and a time.

                Qrow checked his scroll again. He had a few hours to make it a ways into the woods, and if he flew he could even be early. He glanced back at Viola sleeping peacefully on the bed, and sighed. It was time to go. He dressed quickly and snuck out her front door, making sure to lock it behind him. Breathing deep, he activated his semblance and took off into the darkness, relishing in the routine of flight.

\---

                Qrow couldn’t help but make a fire at the meeting place. Raven would surely reprimand him for drawing attention to themselves, but it was too damn cold to wait in one place without one. As he flew he had gathered that he was somewhere in the forested part of Mistral, which made Viola’s comment about Vale’s trees make even less sense. Oh well, that was on her, not him. During the flight he had also noticed himself becoming dangerously sober.

                At the thought, he took a long drink from his flask. Since the Education Summit, Qrow had filled it exclusively with gin. He found the taste of whiskey downright unbearable now. The reality, of course, was that he had tasted it on Winter’s lips so many times that it just tasted like kissing her. It probably would forever. He shivered, praying that the alcohol would help him keep warm while he worked on growing the woefully insufficient fire.

                He checked the time. It was still twenty minutes before the time listed on the note, and it wasn’t like Raven to be early.  He hadn’t been able to fall asleep at Viola’s, but at least he had been warm. Qrow knew if he complained to Raven about being cold, she would tell him that he should have spent the time as a bird instead. Truthfully, he hadn’t practiced his semblance as much as she had, and could not spend more than a couple hours at a time in that form. Already, he could feel the particular mental fatigue that came from overusing his semblance.

                A while later, he rifled through his bag for something to eat, and found nothing. He checked the time again, it was forty minutes past their meeting time. But that wasn’t unusual. To keep himself busy and warm, he spent some time gathering sticks. He ended up making a makeshift cot to be a barrier between the snow and wet leaves on the ground next to the fire. At some point, he drifted off to sleep.

                Qrow woke a few hours later to a dead fire and a rising sun. Raven hadn’t shown. He was sure of it, and the untouched snow around him confirmed his suspicions. He shrugged it off, bitter about spending the night outside but otherwise emotionally unaffected. He brushed off his clothes, took a deep breath, and activated his semblance. He took off in the direction of the sun, ready for another day of going through the motions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Unfortunately I'm going to have to drop my posting schedule back down to once a week, due to an international move. @_@ I'm hoping next month I should be back on track, but for now, it's back to Wednesdays. Check out my tumblr (listed in my profile) if you'd like to know what I'm up to and how things are going. :) Thank you all for your continued support, I'm so glad you all are enjoying the story so far!
> 
> Tune in next Wednesday, June 15th for Chapter 10: Dawn!


	10. Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed with the last chapter, things are headed in a different direction for a while. Qrow and Winter have some growing to do and some things they need to deal with before they can really work. I've got a lot planned, stick with me and I promise it will be worth it! With that in mind, enjoy Chapter 10: Dawn!

                After she left Ozpin’s office, Winter feigned illness and caught an early flight back to Atlas. She had to pay for it herself, but it was worth every penny in order to be alone. Her scroll was full of texts from Darya, wondering what had happened the night before and where she had gone. Darya had always been like that—she was mother figure of Team DAWN. Winter sent her a short text, telling her that she wasn’t feeling well and that she was heading home. But she still felt guilty. She sent another text, saying she was disappointed they hadn’t gotten to spend more time together, and that they should see each other soon.

                Even as she typed it, Winter knew it was a lie. Darya now knew something was up, and she wouldn’t be able to keep it secret from her any longer. So a couple days later, before the others were set to return from the Vytal Festival, Winter took a mission to infiltrate and gather information on a dust smuggling ring in Vacuo.

                She spent two months there undercover, and it was somewhat relieving to leave her real life behind for a while. Winter probably could have lived forever as Afra Hakim, a spunky redhead, if she didn’t have a criminal record attached to that name. As Afra she had honed her skills as a pickpocket until the smuggling ring took notice of her. Once inside, she had gathered the requisite information (passwords, blueprints, signals and a detailed hierarchy) until she was “arrested” by an undercover agent after picking a fight with them in front of her cohorts.

                “Will you be heading back to Atlas tonight, or would you prefer a flight in the morning?” The undercover agent had asked as Winter washed the dye out of her hair in a secret room in the basement of the police station.

                “That won’t be necessary,” she replied. She was washing her hair with one hand and typing away on her scroll with the other. In a few moments, she had accepted another mission. “I’ll be heading to Mistral.”

                She continued that way for the next few months, spending her time being anyone but Winter Schnee. But she slowly began to realize that she was doing exactly what she resented Qrow for: running away. She chose to ignore the realization for a while, until late January. She returned from acquiring an asset in Forever Fall to find that there were no Stealth missions left that were not in Atlas. She sighed. It was time to give up.

                Reluctantly, she arranged to meet Darya for coffee in downtown Atlas. Winter took great care in selecting her outfit, knowing that Darya was often able to guess how she was feeling based on what she wore. After much deliberation, she selected a grey vest, black tapered pants, and a light blue blouse. She examined herself in the mirror, deciding that she looked quite put-together.

                But the first thing Darya said when Winter entered the coffee shop was, “Oh no, the Denial Vest. It’s worse than I thought.” She had been sitting by a window, waiting for her.

                Winter didn’t even get a chance to speak before Darya explained, “You always wear that vest when you’re trying to convince everyone that you have your shit together.” As Winter sat down, she added, “I ordered your usual Bad Day Coffee, but I’m thinking now I should have gone with the Really Bad Day coffee.”

                Sure enough, the waitress arrived with two coffees, “Cream and sugar,” she said, placing the cup in front of Darya, and then, “Two sugars…on the side,” the waitress said hesitantly as she placed the cup and small plate in front of Winter.

                “I know you like to put them in yourself,” Darya said with a small giggle.

                “Thanks,” Winter sighed, “It’s…a little strange to be back. I’m not used to people actually knowing me,” she said as she gently placed the two sugar cubes in her coffee.

                “I figured since you finally decided to see me that you were ready to talk about…whatever it is that happened?” Darya said, making it a question with her tone. “If you don’t want to you don’t have to.”

                “No, I do, I just,” Winter sighed, trailing off. She stirred her coffee incessantly, unable to sit still.               

                After a few moments of awkward silence, Darya offered, “I heard you ran into Ash the other day?”

                Winter cracked a smile in spite of herself. Ash was another member of Team DAWN, and he was like the brother she never had. They had a fun but hypercompetitive relationship, and they rarely said a word to one another that wasn’t laced with profanity or crude humor. He was also an expert on rude gestures, and she had never come across one that he did not already know.

                “What did he say about that?” She asked, smirking.

                Darya laughed, “He said you were ‘way bitchier than normal’ and lots of other things that I am absolutely not going to repeat. He said you yelled at someone working at the supermarket and threatened to fight them?”

                “They made a rude comment about me being a Schnee and I was…not in the best mood,” Winter explained sheepishly.

                “No kidding,” Darya replied, laughing. Then she turned serious. “Alright, just spit it out, what happened at the Education Summit that has you all messed up like this? Was it that Branwen guy?”

                Winter thought for a few moments, not looking at her, before saying, “Yeah.”

                Darya whistled, “I mean, yeah, I guess I figured that after I saw you dance with him. But—so—you ‘fell under his spell’ even after Ironwood warned us?”

                She was quiet for a while. For a few seconds, she wondered if it was all real. Besides the confrontation with Ozpin and Glynda, she hadn’t ever talked to another person about what happened with Qrow. But she was reminded of the evidence that still remained—his belt in her closet, his note that she had hidden in a desk drawer, her red dress still packed away in her suitcase.

                “Yeah, I did,” Winter said quietly. When Darya began to speak, she cut her off, “But not like you think. I first met him, well, almost two years ago now.”

                Darya’s eyes widened. “Unbelievable, I can’t believe you managed to keep this from me for so long,” she said.

                “Well, I kept it from everyone,” she explained, “And I didn’t know who he was at first. Well, not the first time, at least.”

                “What?” Darya drew out the word and laughed in disbelief, “It’s not like you to see someone more than once, unless…” she narrowed her eyes to peer across the table at Winter, “Was it the sex? How was it?”

                Winter hesitated, before saying, “It was…pretty great.”

                Darya shook her head, “Damn, Schnee. ‘Pretty great’ is like an A+ in your book. So what’s wrong with having someone in Vale to hook up with? How did that lead to—“ she gestured at Winter, “— _this?_ ”

                She rested her face in her hands. “I don’t know, it’s complicated,” Winter looked up and scanned the café for their waitress, “Do you think we could see about getting a coffee with some kind of—“

                “Liquor, I know. Really Bad Day Coffee,” Darya explained. “In the meantime, tell me everything that happened, from the beginning.”

                So she did. It took a while to get going, but once she did, she retold each event with artful descriptions. Darya was excited and enthralled at first, but grew more and more concerned as she seemed to realize that the story would have a depressing, unsatisfying ending.

                “And then he said, ‘No, I know _exactly_ what you meant, Ice Queen.’ And that’s—that’s it,” Winter said with a short sigh.

                “He just…walked out?”

                “Yeah.”

                “And you haven’t seen or heard from him since?” Darya asked, even though she knew the answer.

                Winter nodded. They were quiet for a few long moments, each drinking their coffee and not looking at one another. Finally Darya said very quietly, “Damn, Winter. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

                She shrugged. She felt so drained just from recounting her encounters with Qrow that she couldn’t even muster up more words to say. Even if she could, the right words to describe how she felt seemed impossible to find.

                “Is it over?” Darya asked.

                “I—I think so. I don’t know. I guess, probably,” she stumbled through her words.

                Darya looked concerned in a very motherly way. She reached across the table and grasped Winter’s forearm. “Do you want it to be over? Well, what is it that you want, exactly?”

                This, she felt she could answer. “I want get promoted again, I want to climb the ranks and make people respect the Schnee name again,” she paused, realizing something for the first time, “And…I guess…it doesn’t seem like Qrow could be a part of that.”

                Still holding onto Winter’s arm, Darya said, “I’m sorry. I can tell it hurts. He must be really something, to impress Winter Schnee, huh?”

                Darya’s words were intended to be comforting, but Winter felt her eyes stinging with tears. “Yeah, you could say that,” she said meekly.

                Darya changed her angle, trying to be cheery now. “Well, you like distractions, right?”

                Winter nodded suspiciously.

                “If you’re ready to move on, I have an idea,” she said, with a hint of a mischievous grin.

                “Oh good god, please don’t say—“

                “A blind date!” Darya exclaimed, “I know the perfect person, too! Don’t roll your eyes, he’s good enough you should make an exception to your ‘blind date policy’. Think of it this way—if it goes well, it goes well. If it doesn’t go well, you’re still distracted from your…bird problem. Right?”

                Winter gave a long, dramatic sigh and said, “Alright.”

                Darya punched her on the arm playfully, “That’s the spirit!”

\---

                Winter was not optimistic about the blind date, and she had a hard time containing it. The January wind was particularly harsh that afternoon, and she resented Darya for encouraging her to wear a skirt. Tights were not enough to shield her legs from the wind, and her white wool coat only fell to her knees. As she approached their meeting place, she thought about running away and making up an excuse, but she thought better of it. After all, she was trying to be above that now, wasn’t she?

                Darya’s coworker was already there as Winter walked up. She sized him up quickly, like she was used to doing on missions. He was a couple inches taller than her, of medium build and modestly muscled, and dressed in an understated business casual ensemble. Even if she hadn’t known that he worked in the same division as Darya, she would have guessed that he normally wore a lab coat. To add to his air of being a researcher, he was wearing a pair of metal wire-rimmed glasses.

                “Winter?” He asked as she stopped in front of him. His eyes were bright blue.

                “Yes, and you are?” She was initially struck by the fact that he didn’t say her last name, as almost everyone did when they were addressing her. She was suspicious and cautiously impressed, all at the same time.

                “Wilton Caldwell,” he replied, offering his hand for Winter to shake. Wow, _Wilton Caldwell. That’s a—_ “A mouthful, I know,” he seemed to finish her though for her, and she was surprised again. Darya hadn’t mentioned his semblance, but surely she would have warned her if it was some form of telepathy, right? “I usually go by Will.”

                His hand lingered for a moment as she let go of it. “Nice to meet you, Will,” she said. There was a sparkle in his eyes that she wasn’t used to seeing in her fellow military members. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. “Did you…have anything in mind?” Winter asked, suddenly becoming aware of the cold again.

                Will laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Actually yes. It’s a bit…unorthodox,” he said. As nervous as he seemed, he was still smiling.

                Winter was confused. She was used to men being nervous to talk to her, but this was different somehow. When she started to ask for clarification, he cut her off.

                “I, uh,” he laughed, “I’m sorry. Just hear me out. I—ha—I’m afraid you’ll laugh at me.” His voice was breathy. He seemed to be trying to laugh and talk at the same time, and was succeeding at neither.

                “I won’t laugh,” she assured him. Something inside her had melted. Winter offered him a small, hesitant smile. She considered reaching out to touch his arm, but stopped.  

                Will took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, so, I went to Atlas Academy a few years before you and Darya did. But after I graduated I went straight into military technology development, so…Darya said you were the best fighter on your team, and you’re doing really well in Stealth, so,” he laughed again, very deliberately not looking at her, “I was thinking we could spar.” For as nervous as he had been, he looked at her with an excited expectation on his face.

                Winter smiled. It was a real genuine smile that she felt from the inside out. “That sounds like fun, Will,” she said, and he let out a breath that he was apparently holding, “I’m wearing a skirt and heels though,” she added with an air of concern.

                “Darya said you probably would be,” Will admitted, “She said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

                Winter swore at Darya, imagining her friend’s mischievous grin. But she was smiling.

                “You’re right,” she said, looking back up at him, “It won’t be.”

\---

                They headed to the large gym in the Atlas military complex. It was a Saturday afternoon, so it was nearly empty. Winter selected the area that had padding on the surrounding walls and the floor. Will wasn’t quite convinced, until she said, “It’s a wise choice, believe me.” His eyes widened.

                Winter blushed as she shed her coat. She was wearing her favorite blue blouse to combat the fact that she wasn’t overly comfortable in her high-waisted white pleated skirt. Will unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs and rolled up his sleeves above his elbows, and safely stowed away his glasses. As she gathered her hair up into a messy bun, something occurred to her.

                “Surely know about my semblance?” Winter asked, spinning around to face him.

                Will nodded, smiling. “In fact I do. Darya talks a lot,” he explained.

                “But…I don’t know about yours,” she pointed out.

                “Perhaps that’s by design,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Winter felt a spark of attraction before she realized what it was. When he smirked at her, it was overwhelming. “If I don’t withhold some information I’m totally hosed,” Will said.

                Winter shrugged, unable to really disagree with him there. It took her three paces to get used to the feeling of the padded floor underneath her feet, but no more. Will placed himself a ways away from her, just about as far as she had been from Qrow when they began their fight at the Education Summit. They nodded simultaneously, and began.  

                Winter had been planning on starting out defensively, but decided not to. “Let me know if your aura gets too low,” she said as he evaded a jab. She had anticipated how he would move to avoid it, and answered with a light tap on his midsection with the front of her foot. Just to prove she could. “It wouldn’t be a very good first date if I ended up injuring you,” she laughed.

                “On the contrary,” Will said, moving her back a few paces with a few well-timed blows, “I would be honored to be injured by the great Winter Schnee.”

                It was the first time he had used her last name, and a clear expression of displeasure crossed her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, as they spent a couple seconds apart, waiting for the other to move.

                “Well, I mean, you have a reputation,” Will replied as she moved back in, and then he suddenly seemed to realize that every word was making things worse, “I mean, you’re the real deal. You’re this, this,” he paused to dodge her chest-level strikes, “This enigma. Not a lot of people are smart, beautiful, dignified and badass all at once. It makes you, well, terrifying,” he explained. Winter let up for a moment, shocked.

                “ _That’s_ my reputation?” She asked. She would have figured it would have a lot more to do with her family, or her temper.

                “Well yeah,” he said, seizing his opportunity. For the first time, he attempted a kick, but Winter was just out of his range. She managed to grab hold of his leg and spin him to the ground. As he landed on his back, he said, “Until Darya started telling me about you, you didn’t seem like…like a real person, you know? Ugh, you were right about the padded floor,” he groaned, still on his back.

                But Winter’s curiosity had been piqued. She knelt down next to him. “What do you mean I didn’t seem like a real person?”

                “Did any of this really never occur to you before?” Will asked as he stood up. Winter shook her head, still kneeling. “Well, you kind of…intimidate people.”

                But something still wasn’t adding up to her. “Well, not—“

                “I know, not Duncan Armstrong or those other guys,” he cut her off as he offered his hand to help her stand up. For just a moment she thought about sweeping his legs out from underneath him. As a compromise, she leapt up very quickly on her own, offering a swift kick to the chest. “Oof,” Will said as it physically pushed him backwards. “I guess I probably deserved that,” he said with a laugh. “But yeah, most normal people who aren’t assholes find you intimidating.”

                Winter was still visibly processing this information, so Will tried the kick again. This time, it connected. She let the momentum take her a few feet away. As she landed, she saw his face overcome with guilt. But she was smirking. His hesitation bought her a short moment of time, and she used it to create a glyph. She flew back at him with the power of the glyph propelling her. With an open-handed blow to the chest, she knocked him to the floor again.

                “Am I as…impressive as you thought I would be?” Winter asked as he landed. She noticed herself being uncharacteristically honest for a first date. He had somehow broken through her walls that she kept guarding her thoughts and feelings at all times.

                “No,” he breathed, having had the wind knocked out of him, “You are much better,” he added after a melodramatic pause, winking. “What about me?” The spark was back in his eyes, amplified now that he had taken off his glasses.

                “You… _have_ impressed me,” Winter said with a small hint of hesitation. She knelt down beside him again. “I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten this far into a date without talking about my father,” she confessed.

                “Wow,” he said, sitting up, “Is it really that bad?”

                Winter nodded.

                “Low expectations, I like that,” he said as he winked again, still catching his breath. But a moment passed, and he seemed to return to the nervous state he had been in when they first met. “I—don’t know, I mean—I think this could be the start of something. Do you?”

                Winter thought long and hard. She thought about the kind of life she wanted to have, and about moving on. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah, I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! This will stay my main project until its completion, but if you like my writing, keep your eyes peeled and consider subscribing to me! I have a few smaller (RWBY) projects in the works, considerably fluffier than this. Otherwise, send me some good vibes as I move from Canada back to the US, and tune in next Wednesday for Chapter 11: Fears!


	11. Fears

                Qrow couldn’t sleep. He was lying awake on the hardest mattress he had ever felt, underneath a few scratchy blankets. He was in an inn a ways outside of Vale, the cheapest one he could possibly find, so he felt as though he couldn’t really complain.

                He had been sent by Ozpin to investigate reports of unusual Grimm activity in this area. Sure enough, Qrow had spoken to some locals about it, and they had strange tales to tell. Grimm that seemed to come through locked doors, and species that had never been seen before. There was one small girl that he met, probably around Ruby’s age. She had been attacked by a small Grimm while playing outside. While she had not been seriously injured, she had been left with a strange scar and had not spoken since the attack.

                But despite all the villagers had to say, Qrow could not find any evidence of the creatures of Grimm themselves. He was now staying overnight on what was meant to be a day trip. Every time he considered going home without answers, he thought of the small girl with the strange scar. So now, he laid in bed, the room spinning from the alcohol coursing through his veins.

                He checked his scroll again. It was 2:34AM. Qrow decided that he would let Ozpin know in the morning that he planned to stay in the area for a couple days to do more research on the mysterious Grimm. Ozpin was a light sleeper, and in the past had lost entire nights of sleep after being awoken by Qrow’s nocturnal updates. He chuckled at the memory. All of a sudden, a different memory rushed over his mind.

                Using both hands, Qrow quickly navigated to a hidden folder on his scroll, where he kept a certain something stashed away. It was the only picture he had of Winter. In fact, because they had never exchanged contact information, it was the only evidence he had of her.

                The picture was perfect. He had snapped it while she wasn’t paying attention, in her kitchen the morning after her promotion ceremony more than a year ago. She was standing by the stove, her long white hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, wearing a white apron over a soft blue t-shirt and white lace panties. The picture highlighted the curve of her ass and her long, long legs. Her head was turned slightly towards him, as she was just realizing that he was taking a picture of her. In the moment after he took it she had rushed up to him, laughing while insisting that he shouldn’t take a picture while she was “such a mess” and then kissed him. After all this time, the picture still took him back to that moment.

                Qrow had no shortage of sexual encounters with beautiful strangers, but he held onto this secret picture because it was different. Sure, it was sexy. It captured perfectly the feeling that he felt when he and Winter were together, that she was too beautiful to be real. But that wasn’t quite it. After a life of casual dating and even more casual sex, he was constantly drawn to the domesticity portrayed in the photo. It was a tiny glimpse into another life, like time borrowed from a parallel universe where things were different. But there was one more thing that made the picture so precious. It was so rare and striking to see someone like Winter, who constructed a public persona to hide behind, completely undone.

                He closed his scroll, but the feeling lingered. Even more restless now, he rolled over to his other side and closed his eyes. Qrow knew sleep wouldn’t come, though. He stood up and opened the window, letting the warm summer air rush into the stuffy room. Outside, the sky was full of stars. He hadn’t seen them lately, due to the light pollution of the kingdoms where he spent most of his time. It was strangely comforting.

                As he leaned out the window, a breeze came through that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Something wasn’t right, even though Qrow couldn’t quite figure out why he knew. From his many years in the field as a Hunter, he had learned to trust his instincts. He quickly dressed and packed his bag, grabbing his sword on the way out.

                It felt good to be out in the night air, but the feeling of uneasiness had only grown as Qrow exited the inn. As he made his way into the forest, he realized what had tipped him off to begin with: the silence was complete. There were no birds chirping, no small animals moving, even the crickets were silent. Something was afoot.

                Another breeze came and went. As it settled, Qrow heard the sound of large wings beating. His mind was racing now, his muscles tightened and he stood defensively, trying to identify the source of the sound without drawing too much attention to himself. He could do a lot more damage to the potential target with his weapon in its scythe form, but the sound would draw the enemy to him in an instant.

                He heard the wings a second time, louder and closer. Qrow slowed his breathing, remaining alert but calm. He had figured out the general direction in which it had come from, and he squinted through the darkness to try and make out something. His heart dropped as he saw two large, red eyes open.

                Qrow stepped backwards very quickly. Never taking his eyes off the unknown creature of Grimm, he took aim with his weapon and fired three quick shots directly at the eyes. It did not recoil or shrink back from the injury, but leapt towards him in one large bound.

                As it came into the moonlight, Qrow recognized it as one of the strange creatures that the villagers had described. It was huge, with the body and mane of a lion and large, fleshy wings. It let out a great roar.

                _I’ve got to keep it away from the village,_ Qrow thought to himself. He shifted his weapon back into sword form and ran towards it, taking aim for its neck. The sword connected, but before it could cut deeply, the Grimm threw him off with a swing of its back foot.

                He rolled into the fall, ending up crouching on his feet. Qrow took a quick moment to scan the Grimm for weak points. He was unsuccessful, and the opportunity passed as the creature launched its counterattack. As it jumped towards him, preparing to swipe him with its claws, Qrow caught of a glimpse of its long, white teeth. He decided to take a risk. At the last second, he rolled forward out of the way, swinging his sword into the creature’s back leg.

                It collapsed where Qrow had been a moment earlier, crying out in pain. He hadn’t quite severed the leg, but he had done a fair amount of damage to it. The Grimm returned to its feet, limping but more focused than ever. Backing up, Qrow took aim with his gun, but it seemed unaffected by the bullets once more.

                Now that he was facing the village once more, he could see that people were watching him from the windows of their houses, holding onto one another in fear. Qrow shook his head, consciously remaining calm and focused. For Hunters and Huntresses, panic and fear could be fatal mistakes. He moved quickly in a circle around the creature, still searching for some kind of weak spot. Finally, he found it. Something glowed on the back of its neck, nearly hidden by the thick mane.

                But it wasn’t going to give him an opportunity to strike it. The creature turned around quickly and ran at him with full force. He barely dodged it, trying to formulate a plan all the while. He focused on the point where he had already wounded the creature. If he could strike it there again, he could take advantage of the spare moment and hit the creature’s weak point.

                A second later, Qrow got his chance. The creature roared again, different and louder than the previous ones. He ran forward and slashed the wounded leg once more. As it recoiled, he leapt on top of it and plunged his sword into the glowing mane.

                He felt the creature collapse to the ground, and he knew he was successful. Qrow looked up, triumphant, to the window of the house nearest him. But the people in the house weren’t looking at him. Their faces were struck with horror, and the small girl with the scar was pointing to something behind him.

                Qrow knew exactly what was about to happen. He couldn’t run to safety, there was no time. He heard the sound of wings beating behind him, and he braced himself. Against his better judgement, he turned to face the creatures that his enemy had called out to. He saw many pairs of red glowing eyes, and a claw coming towards him a second before the world went black.

\---

                Qrow almost returned to consciousness. The world was hazy and spinning in the unique way that it did when he had lost too much blood. Indeed, he could feel that his chest was wet with it. He clenched his body, bracing for a fatal blow, but it never came. A familiar pair of boots approached him. _Raven._

                Seeing that his eyes were open, she crouched down to speak to him. If he had been able to, Qrow would have sighed. He would never hear the end of this from her. She never liked adjusting her plans to help someone else, especially him.

                “Don’t get involved with this, Qrow,” she said in a deadly whisper. It was not a suggestion, it was a threat.

                “With what?” He mouthed, not able to make sound come out of his lungs. He wondered if any of his internal organs were damaged, but his body was still numb from shock.

                Raven was annoyed by the question. “With _this_ ,” she grabbed the collar of his shirt for emphasis, disregarding the fact that it was soaked with blood. “I told you not to get in too deep with Ozpin, but you didn’t listen.” She let go of his collar with a small shove, and he fell onto his back. Pain suddenly shot through his entire body, blinding him, and he felt himself begin to lose consciousness again.

                “No one will make it through the storm that’s coming,” she warned, “not him, and not you.”

\---

                When Qrow opened his eyes again, he was laying in another unfamiliar bed, and the sun was out. Instinctively he looked around for Raven, even though he knew she would have left him in the woods to live or die. He was in a tiny room, clean and nearly bare. When he looked around he discovered that he was hooked up to an IV, and his chest was heavily bandaged. He wanted to call out to someone, to ask them where he was and how he ended up here, but the pain made it difficult to speak above a whisper.

                Instead he waited, glancing around the room continuously. His sword was leaned up against the wall, with his own dried blood on it. How embarrassing. He was wearing a hospital gown, and could not locate his normal clothes or his bag anywhere in the room. From the view out the window, it was clear that he was still in the same village. Based on the sun, Qrow guessed it was mid- or late-afternoon. He had probably been asleep for at least twelve hours, but he still didn’t feel like it had been enough.

                Finally a nurse passed by his open door and noticed he was awake. “Oh, oh my goodness, sir,” she said, her voice breathy, “We—we didn’t realize you’d be awake this soon. You’ve been gravely injured.”

                “I’m fine,” Qrow grunted, trying to sit up, “Do you have my bag?”

                “I’ll get the doctor,” the nurse replied. When he looked disgruntled, she added, “And your things.”

                Qrow let out a long breath once she left the room. Due to the nature of his job, he had been seriously injured quite a few times throughout his life, but his age was starting to show. It was getting harder and harder to bounce back. Deep down, he wondered if his mistake this time could have cost him his life, if not for Raven.

                Before he could dwell on that thought, the nervous nurse returned with the doctor, a sprightly elderly woman with her blue-grey hair pulled back into a tight bun. “Doctor Lazuli,” she introduced herself as she sat in the chair beside Qrow’s bed, “Pleased to meet you, young man.”

                Qrow laughed. “No one’s called me that in a long time,” he said, wincing from the pain of speaking.

                “Well, you’re young to me,” Doctor Lazuli laughed as well. She looked at her clipboard. Qrow assumed that she would ask how he was feeling, how he had gotten injured—the usual hospital routine. Instead, she asked, “What are you doing out here? Not a lot of travelers pass through our village.”

                “I’m here investigating the strange Grimm attacks that have been occurring,” he answered. He was honest with them partly because they deserved all the help they could get, and partly because he much preferred the demeanor of most small town people to those who lived in the main cities of the kingdoms.

                Doctor Lazuli sighed. “That’s what I thought. We haven’t seen a Hunter out here in a long time, even though we kept sending requests to Vale.”

                Qrow felt a twinge of guilt. Because of his level of experience, he tended to only see the highest priority missions. This poor village had been on the backburner until Ozpin realized that their strange events might be connected to others they had investigated.

                “I’m only sorry I couldn’t do more,” he admitted.

                “You did plenty. Those Chimeras would have wreaked havoc on the village if you weren’t there. Lives were saved because of you,” she replied, placing his hands over his. This was the reason he had become a Hunter so long ago. People like this woman had taken care of him and protected him as a child, and this felt like the only way he could make things right. “Now, I’m used to treating people without unlocked auras and semblances and whatnot,” she continued, “What can we do to—help you help yourself?”

                “Food,” Qrow said with a short sigh, “And sleep.” The nurse returned once more, this time with his bag and clothes. “I’ll be out your door in no time,” he promised, winking at the doctor, who laughed.

                As the doctor and nurse changed his IV, he asked the question that had been burning on his mind.

                “Did…one of the villagers bring me here?” He asked, not quite directly asking what he wanted to know. In the past, he had hallucinated while in the addled state of blood loss. Doctor Lazuli and the nurse looked at one another, then back at him.

                “No,” the doctor said slowly, “There was…a woman. She fought for you when you fell. She brought you here and…left. I’m sorry. No one knew who she was.”

                “That’s okay,” Qrow sighed. So Raven really was there, and she had the decency to drop him off at the hospital. Maybe she was going soft after all these years. His mind drifted back to Beacon for a moment, until a realization jolted through his whole body. His eyes widened as he practically yelled, “Ozpin!”

                It startled the other two. “My scroll!” he exclaimed, gesturing to his bag. Qrow was currently missing in action, having missed his checkpoint without any indication to Ozpin where he was or what had happened to him.

                The nurse glanced at the doctor again. She retrieved a small clear bag, containing his shattered scroll. It had, without a doubt, been stabbed with a sword. Qrow narrowed his eyes, filled with desperation and fury. Through Doctor Lazuli’s protests, he tore out the IV needle, threw the covers off his bed and attempted to stand. The doctor reached out to him as he fell, but he pushed her hand away. Clutching his chest, Qrow took his bag away from the nurse and his sword from against the wall.

                “Sir, you’re not well enough to go!” Doctor Lazuli shouted as he made his way to the door. He wasn’t moving quickly, so the nurse took a few steps to stand between him and the doorframe.

                Qrow laughed, and it was a haggard, rough sound. He coughed, checking his hand afterwards to make sure there wasn’t blood. “I appreciate your help, I really do, but this is important,” he said. Still clutching his chest with one arm, he bowed with dramatic flourish, then activated his semblance and flew away.

\---

                Night had fallen by the time Qrow made it to Taiyang’s house just outside Vale. The flight was long and agonizing, but the constant floods of emotion kept him alert. He supposed that his lack of energy made him more susceptible to panic and agony, but even that realization wasn’t able to calm him down.  

                He transformed as he reached the doorstep. Normally Qrow would land on his feet, but not this time. He fell to his knees, still feeling the ill effects of blood loss on top of low blood sugar. There, on his knees on Taiyang’s doorstep, he felt nervous. What if Taiyang didn’t want to see him? They had shared unkind words as teammates and rivals time after time, but as they got older the wounds didn’t seem to heal as quickly. Qrow considered leaving, but didn’t move a muscle. After staring death in the face, the only place in the world he wanted to be was with his family—the only place that felt remotely like home. So he knocked, falling to his elbows afterwards.

                He could hear his heart beating in time with Taiyang’s rushed footsteps. “Qrow,” he gasped as he opened the door. Qrow remembered just then that he had forgotten to stop and change out of his hospital gown, which he realized made the scene even more pathetic. “What happened?” Taiyang said, crouching down to speak to him at his level.

                “I got my ass kicked,” Qrow grumbled, almost laughing, “Obviously.”

                Taiyang helped him stand up, not laughing at Qrow’s joke. He wobbled, but maintained his balance as Taiyang guided him inside his small home. He directed Qrow to a seat at the kitchen table. It seemed as though he had been working there when he heard the knock on the door, because there were stacks of papers spread out on it. There was a single light shining down on the table, all the other lights in the house were off.

                “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Taiyang said, investigating him, “Or, _back_ to the hospital, I guess?”

                Qrow tried to physically wave him away. “No, I just need something to eat…and a nice strong drink, please,” he said.

                Taiyang stood up straight and folded his arms across his chest, “Do you really think you should be drinking right now?”

                Qrow rolled his eyes and said, “Look, I’m pretty beat up as it is, do you really think I should be hungover too?”

                Taiyang sighed. He heated up what looked like leftover stir fry for Qrow and poured them each a drink—whiskey.

                “Thanks,” he said, nervous again. The initial confusion of his arrival had settled, and Qrow was waiting for the tension to set in. But when Taiyang sat back down at the kitchen table with their drinks, he didn’t have the stony expression that Qrow had seen a lot of lately.

                They avoided each other’s gaze for a while, as Qrow ate. Finally, Taiyang cleared his throat. “Look, Qrow, I’m sorry,” he said. Qrow looked over at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his eyes shiny with tears. As he waited for him to continue speaking, Qrow felt immensely guilty. “I’m—spread a little thin these days. I wouldn’t change anything about it, but it gets hard…and lonely. It’s---it’s like it was easier to find someone to blame than to just…accept this is how things are now. I took it out on you when you were trying your best. I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking at Qrow in the eyes.

                “I should be the one who’s sorry,” Qrow replied with a self-deprecating laugh, “I was being a selfish prick. I should have been around to help you. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.” Talking about his feelings always made Qrow immensely uncomfortable, but it was as though a weight was being lifted off of his aching chest.

                Taiyang looked at the floor, resting his forearms on his knees. Qrow barely saw a single tear run down his cheek. “We got a call from Ozpin this morning,” Taiyang said softly, almost too quiet to hear, “That you missed your checkpoint last night, that he wasn’t able to contact you through your scroll. I didn’t tell the girls. But it was just like—just like when we got the—the first call about Summer.” Taiyang looked up, and the two men stared at one another across the table for a long moment.

                “I’m so sorry,” Qrow whispered, blinking tears back. Running away from his problems had put his family through hell. There was no getting around that fact anymore.

                Taiyang looked away again. “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and forget she’s gone,” he said. He turned back to Qrow, “Sorry, I just…“ But he had nothing else to say.

                “It’s alright,” Qrow said, “I think about her…most days.” He had slowly realized over time that part of the reason he found himself running away from his family was because of her. The closest thing to her existence was the memories that lived on in her loved ones, and it was so much more difficult than spending time with strangers that distracted him from his pain.

                “Did you see…” Taiyang began to ask, then trailed off. But Qrow had no doubt who he was talking about.

                “Raven? Yeah,” he replied. There was a moment of silence, then Qrow added, “Look, even I couldn’t find her if I wanted to. I really have no idea how or why she showed up last night, but if she didn’t I would have—I wouldn’t have made it. So,” he shrugged, having run out of things to say. In these moments more than any other, Qrow resented his sister for abandoning her family. But, to tell the truth, he hadn’t been much better lately. “Can I see Ruby and Yang?”

                Taiyang willingly moved past the subject of Raven. “They’re asleep, but they’ll be excited to see you. As long as you don’t keep them up too late,” he said, standing up.

                “Of course I won’t,” Qrow assured him, “Even cool uncles have to follow the rules,” he joked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. A small smile appeared on Taiyang’s face, and he led Qrow to the girls’ shared room.

                Qrow pushed open the door a crack to peek inside, and the light from the hallway illuminated their room ever so slightly. Yang, who was about to turn fourteen, had plastered her side of the room with all kinds of posters of her favorite bands and warriors, and a variety of books and weapons were strewn about the floor around her bed. Ruby was twelve, and she seemed to be holding onto the last of her childhood toys. Her bed was covered with stuffed animals and dolls, some of which had been grievously injured in the process of fighting one another.

                Qrow found himself overcome with emotion. He turned to Taiyang, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he spoke, “You know I was never really big on it, but I’m sure Summer would want me to tell you that I…love you.”

                Taiyang smiled, with just a touch of sadness hidden somewhere deep inside. “I love you too, Qrow. I’m glad you’re here—glad you’re home,” he said, grasping Qrow on the shoulder, then embracing him. Now this, this was worth the pain of coming home. “Go on,” he said, gesturing to the open door.

                He tiptoed into the girls’ room, and knelt down beside Ruby’s bed, clutching his chest for just a moment. He shook her awake, very gently at first, then with slightly more vigor as she seemed not to notice. There was a look of confusion on her face as she peered through the dark to see who was waking her up. Then her silver eyes lit up.

                “Uncle Qrow!” Ruby exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. Yang, who was the lighter sleeper of the two, woke up instantly. She repeated Ruby’s cry, but louder, and leapt from her bed onto his back.

                Ruby noticed his bandaged chest, “Uncle Qrow, are you okay?” She peered up at him with big, worried eyes.

                “I’m fine,” he said, ruffling her hair, “There was a big monster, but I beat it,” he said, making sword motions with his hands.

                “You’re going to tell us all about it, right?” Yang asked, letting go of his shoulders and running around to his front to sit beside Ruby.

                “Not right now, you girls need to get back to bed,” Qrow said, glancing at Taiyang, “I just wanted to say hi. I wouldn’t want to give you nightmares anyway,” he added.

                Yang put her hands on her hips and stated proudly, “Pssh, I don’t get nightmares!”

                “You’re going to be here tomorrow, right?” Ruby asked expectantly.

                He ruffled Yang’s hair now, and she looked quite displeased, “Of course.”

                “Promise?” Ruby asked.

                “Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's a bit of a doozy. I'm excited to see things continue to move forward! I'm having less and less time to write, but I'm going to try and avoid going on hiatus as much as I can. Join me next Wednesday, June 29th, for Chapter 12: What She Wants!


	12. What She Wants

                Winter considered her first date with Will a success, so they went on a second date the next weekend. And then, most uncharacteristically, a third. At that point, she found herself at a crossroads. If she was truly honest with herself about what she wanted from Will, she wanted to casually date him indefinitely. She wanted to keep him around just enough to keep Qrow off her mind.

                But that wasn’t really an option. And, after all, Will was…good. He was relatively close to her in age, he had a successful career in the military (one that ran parallel to hers, rather than being a potential cause for competition), he was nice, and he seemed genuinely interested in Winter as a person rather than just her last name. Would she ever be able to do any better? Or rather, could she ignore the stab to the heart she felt every time she saw a black bird? Will was everything she had been waiting for, in theory, and she might not get another chance.

                So, in a very anticlimactic way, Winter Schnee became Wilton Caldwell’s girlfriend. The title itself was something she pondered for a while. She hadn’t been anyone’s “girlfriend” since combat school, where the title didn’t mean as much. Now that they were in their twenties, there was a certain weight to it that she didn’t like thinking about.

                The comfortable rhythms of an exclusive relationship were new and somewhat fascinating to Winter. “Dates” themselves were fewer and far between, and they spent more time casually enjoying one another’s company. Darya was overwhelmed with happiness at their budding relationship, and the three of them spent a lot of time together. She only mentioned Qrow once, but it was something that stuck with Winter for a while.

                “Sometimes, I think, what you want and what you need are two very different things,” she had said. Winter thought about it nearly every day afterwards, trying to discern which one was which. It became clear that Will had heard some of the gossip involving Winter, with the notable exception of her disappearance from the Education Summit. She figured she had Darya to thank for that.

                Winter’s reputation seemed to have a certain effect on Will. Most people that she had befriended at Atlas Academy had treated her…differently, at first. Even after months of being in a relationship, Will still seemed to put her on a pedestal above himself and everyone else. Darya told her that she shouldn’t worry, that’s just the way he was, and that she would get used to it. In time, she did.

                In the middle of the summer, Winter submitted her request to be transferred to the Defense Logistics department. She had brought the idea up to Will very vaguely a few times before, and his reaction had been less than supportive.

                “They put you in Stealth for a reason,” he had said, shrugging, “Why question it? Even Ironwood seems to want you to be there, why would you…challenge it?” He wasn’t pointing out flaws in her logic, he seemed to genuinely not understand why she was making the choices she was. He returned to peering over his glasses to read something on his scroll, under the impression that the conversation was over.

                Winter was sitting across her kitchen table from him, halfway through a big weekend breakfast of pancakes and eggs. She had stopped dead at his words, still holding her fork above her plate. She made a number of facial expressions that he did not see. Finally, she said, “Because…I want to. I want to go as far as I can, and Stealth isn’t the right place to do that.”

                Will turned back to her. Still peering over his glasses, “I suppose that makes sense. I know you’ll do well no matter what. I’m sure whatever is meant to happen will happen.” Winter was filled with the familiar warm glow of being genuinely complimented by him, but underneath it she still felt a small twinge of doubt.

                But most of the time, things were good. They fell into a nice routine, meeting after normal work hours to spend the evening together, usual at Will’s house. On the weekends they would spar, continuing the shared interest from their first date. A few times they utilized their weapons, but Will felt he was at a disadvantage because he had not maintained his weapon (a double-sided, dust powered lance) since graduation. While lying in bed one night, he confessed that his semblance was super strength, but he promised not to use it while sparring if she didn’t use hers.

                As much as she enjoyed his company, Winter found herself missing the time that she would usually spend alone. She tried explaining to Will that she liked him, she just needed time to recharge, but he didn’t seem to understand. Winter had not met his family, but she knew that they were very affectionate, open, and expressive about their feelings. Winter was not, so rather than struggling to make her point, she found solace by adjusting her work schedule and taking a few short missions just outside Atlas.

                Once, on her way out of town in the late summer, she thought she saw Qrow. Out of the corner of her eye, Winter was sure it was him, but when she turned around, it wasn’t. The moment before she turned was enough to send her mind into a frenzy. On the long train ride, she thought of nothing but him. From beginning to end, each intense encounter played in her mind like a movie in painful detail, right until the moment he walked away. Had she broken his heart? Had she been just on the verge of falling for him? Maybe she had already, long ago.

                When she returned from that mission, Winter visited Will right away. She had locked up her thoughts of Qrow in the back of her mind where they belonged, but it wasn’t quite enough. Will would be the perfect distraction so that she could truly move on, maybe once and for all this time.

                Winter knocked on the door to Will’s small house. It was a ways out of downtown, as Will initially could not afford to live near the military complex. But the less-than-ideal location meant that he had a lot more room than she did, and it felt like a real home. In the small yard there was a patch of wildflowers they had planted together a few months ago, ready to bloom any day now.

                Will answered the door. He seemed happy to see her, but something wasn’t quite right. Still, he hugged her tight and said, “Welcome home, Winter,” before kissing her. Right, home. Her feeling of uneasiness grew as they walked into the kitchen. Her mind slipped into its Huntress habits as she scanned the room at lightning speed, then each major object, then each minor object, desperately trying to determine what was wrong.

                A moment later, Winter realized that she should have been looking at Will. His face was strained as he said, “Can we talk?”

                Winter’s mind went into overdrive. Her career had presented her with infiltrations and assassinations, but that fear had nothing on this. “Okay, but…” she said, drifting over to the kitchen counter to make herself a drink.

                “It’s nothing bad,” Will assured her, but she was still suspicious. “Can you…can you even talk about your feelings without drinking?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

                “Um,” she replied, drawing it out a bit too long. “No? I guess I’ve never tried.”

                He looked at her, clearly trying to decide if it was worth pushing the issue. “Go ahead,” he said, but he still sounded exasperated. Will took off his glasses, folding them up and setting them down on the kitchen table before walking into the living room. Winter took a few drinks straight from the vodka bottle as she made her drink. On the counter, a bottle of whiskey sat, unopened from when she bought it a few months ago. She sighed.

                Winter walked into the living room and sat down next to Will on the couch. He had his hand outstretched, clearly wanting to hold hers while they talked. She was normally fine with physical affection, but she was still on edge. As they held hands, every instinct seemed to be telling her to run.

                “I just wanted to talk about… _us,_ ” Will said. Without his glasses on, she was taken aback once again by the sparkling blueness of his eyes. It did nothing to calm her fears. But strangely, she could not put her finger on exactly what it was she was afraid of. When they first met, Winter had worried that he had been able to read her mind. She supposed that fear stayed buried deep down as she let him into her life more and more. And now, she was afraid of someone (anyone, really) finding out that Qrow had made his way back onto her mind.

                “What…do you mean?” Winter asked cautiously. As tense as she was, there was no way she was going to lay all her cards out on the table. She took a drink, knowing it would be a while before she was as comfortable talking as Will wanted her to be.

                Will tilted his head back and forth in a way that reminded her of Darya. “I just…want you to be open with me about what you want,” he sighed.

                Winter peered at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t form an intelligent question.

                “You haven’t been in a serious relationship before, like, one that’s lasted a while, have you?” He asked. Winter visibly winced. Little did he know, that was the worst possible thing he could have said.

                “No,” she said flatly, “Am I doing something wrong?” she asked, responding to the tiny bit of condescension in his voice. Her mind was full of black birds.

                “No, not at all, I just mean,” he began, reaching out to stroke her face with one hand and pull her gaze back to his. She melted slightly, chiding herself for snapping at him. “There’s a…natural progression of things. It feels like we’re a bit…stuck. I just want to know if something’s wrong, or if there’s something that you want from…this.”

                Winter took another long drink as she thought. Feeling somewhat more relaxed, she set the glass down behind her and placed her hand on top of his. “You make me happy,” she said, and even that felt like a confession, “I guess I don’t really know what else I want.”

                That answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. “I know you don’t really have a point of reference, but my last girlfriend and I—“ (a phrase that Winter had come to resent, even abhor) “—said ‘I love you’ after a month and moved in together after two.”

                Winter barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She took a deep breath, and turned around to finish off her drink. When she turned back to look at him, she heard herself saying, “Maybe we _should_ move in together.” She had startled herself, but after seeing his face light up she couldn’t back down. “I like you and I want to be with you,” she said. It sounded like she was assuring him, but that wasn’t exactly the case.

                “That would make me really happy,” Will said, and Winter broke her gaze with him for a moment. He squeezed her hand, then asked cautiously, “Do you…love me?”

                Winter waited in silence a bit too long. She closed her eyes, feeling just a bit dizzy. She honestly did not know. As she had a million times before, she asked herself what love was supposed to feel like. But when she opened her eyes again, she locked her gaze onto his, smiled and said,

                “Yes, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you all for 2k hits, WOW! I had no idea this little project would grow to be so big, and I'm glad to have you all along the way. That being said, I just started a new job and my schedule is a little hectic, so unfortunately I will have to take next week off to get myself caught up. I'll be back with you all on July 13th, for Chapter 13: Injured!


	13. Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys, I'm so tired.

         Qrow spent the remainder of the summer and the entire fall semester living in Vale. His landlord had subleased his chronically empty apartment many months ago, so he took the opportunity to live full time with Taiyang and Ruby.

         At first, his heart had ached for Summer (and to a lesser extent, Raven) as he spent time with their offspring. Ruby was the spitting image of Summer, from her black and red hair to her silver eyes. She smiled exactly like her mother too, in a way that seemed to take over her entire face, with her eyes barely open as she grinned. Yang, too, reminded him of her stepmother sometimes. The way she put her hands on her hips and her tone of voice when she got after Ruby was pure Summer. Yang mostly seemed to take after Taiyang, with her desire to grab life by the horns and her tendency to snap into a fit of rage at the slightest inconvenience. Yang did remind Qrow of her biological mother on a single occasion. When describing how a friend at school had wronged her, her eyes flashed red but her voice stayed deadly cold. 

         It wasn’t long before Qrow saw Yang and Ruby as their own people, and not just the leftover fragments of a broken team. During the months he spent with their small, weird family, Qrow truly felt like their uncle for the first time. He would keep them busy after dinner while Taiyang worked on grading papers and lesson plans. When he wasn’t regaling them with (slightly embellished) tales of being a Hunter, Yang would try to braid his hair while they watched TV, or Ruby would admire his scythe (under his intense supervision). 

         Qrow had always assumed in the back of his mind that Taiyang’s children would become Huntresses. Because of their parents, it was a given. But now that he knew them as people, it seemed absolutely absurd. They were just children, completely unprepared for the horrors of war and loss. But in spite of all of that, Yang was in combat school, and Ruby was sure to follow in her footsteps. Qrow had a short but emotional conversation with Taiyang about it when he came home with a toy scythe for Ruby. 

         Taiyang had given him a long, forlorn glance from where he was sitting on the couch, grading papers on a lap desk. He hadn’t said anything, but Qrow could tell he wanted to. 

         “Does it bother you?” Qrow asked. He didn’t specify exactly what he meant, but they both knew. 

         Taiyang sighed. “Going back, I mean—I don’t have regrets,” he said firmly, “but…I…don’t know, I guess. I can’t change what they want to do, that’s for sure. They’ll follow their own paths, and I can’t do anything but support them.” He sounded almost as though he had been repeating these words countless times, in order to convince himself. 

         “But…” Qrow began, half expressing his own thoughts and half prompting Taiyang’s. Qrow sat down next to him on the couch. The two men looked at each other in the eyes for a long moment, saying many things that words could not. 

         “But I wouldn’t wish this on them,” Taiyang said quietly. Qrow almost spoke, but he stopped when he saw Taiyang close his eyes and press his lips together for a moment. “I know—I mean, thank you, Qrow. I’m glad you’ve been here. But, I know—I know it’s not in your nature. I know it won’t last forever,” Taiyang said as he looked away. 

         In that moment, Qrow hated himself, and also Raven. Had the twins almost single-handedly ruined a good man’s perception of humanity? He wanted to tell Taiyang that he was wrong, but he couldn’t. He just sat there holding the toy scythe, feeling guilty. 

         “They want to do good in the world,” Taiyang continued, “And I love that about them. But they see becoming a Huntress as the only way to that,” he shrugged, “I can only do the best I can. I was the same way when I was kid. When you’re that age, you…you don’t realize how much pain and loss you’ll feel as a Hunter. No matter how much good I do, no matter how many lives I touch, it doesn’t even begin to affect how much I miss the people I love.” 

         He sighed again, and turned back to Qrow with a sad smile on his face. “I’m sorry,” Taiyang said, “I didn’t mean to lay all that on you. It’s nice to have an adult to talk to, for once. I’m glad you’re teaching Ruby,” he said, putting his hand on Qrow’s on shoulder, “She’s lucky to have you.”

         Qrow thought about that for a long time afterwards, wondering whether or not that was actually true. Being a part of Taiyang’s family for a short period of time made him think about whether he wanted a family of his own, and what that would even be like. 

         One night late in the fall semester, the girls had a sleepover at a friend’s house and Qrow and Taiyang took the opportunity to have a night on the town, as they had in their youth. 

         “What are you doing, man?” Taiyang had said, slurring his speech as he grasped Qrow’s shoulder, “I know you’re a family man deep down, I know you don’t want to be alone forever.” 

         Qrow, who could hold his liquor much better than his companion, replied honestly, “I don’t know. Did you ever meet someone who made everyone else seem disappointing?” 

         Taiyang raised his eyebrows, and that was answer enough for him. 

         Qrow laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I just have this…this sense. I can just tell she’s going to destroy me.”

         “Listen, Qrow,” he replied, grabbing Qrow by both shoulders now and looking into his eyes with characteristic thoughtfulness, “I’ve let a couple women I loved destroy me. They were the best choices I ever made.”

\--- 

         For that reason, Qrow found himself in Atlas about a month after the end of the fall semester. The cold air was insufferable, but he was warm with the idea of seeing Winter. For the first time, he had come to Atlas knowing he wanted to run into her. He slunk around the Atlas military complex, wrapped up in a grey coat and a black scarf in the hopes that no one would recognize him. 

         It wasn’t until he headed out to the downtown area outside the military complex that Qrow spotted Winter. She emerged from an alley on the opposite side of the street, and he instinctively ducked into a doorway to avoid being seen. But when he turned to watch where she was heading, his stomach dropped. 

         She, too, had tried to cover up a scarf, but she was unmistakably covered in blood. He could see how it had run from her face onto her chest and soaked her uniform. It was clear from the way her body shook as she walked that she was crying. 

         Qrow had no idea why he followed her instead of confronting her. At first, he supposed it was because his Hunter instincts kicked in and he wanted to gather information about the situation before engaging. That was a nice, comfortable answer, but it wasn’t the truth. Next he thought maybe he didn’t care about her as much as he had in the past, but that didn’t even make sense. In reality, Qrow didn’t stop Winter on the street because he was afraid of what he might find out. 

         Things got stranger as Qrow followed her home. Although, he wasn’t sure he was really following her home anymore at all, because she walked directly past the building he knew contained her apartment. He supposed she had moved sometime since they had last seen each other, but she walked all the way out of downtown and into the suburbs of Atlas. To avoid detection he transformed into a bird, following her closely from rooftop to rooftop. She was still quietly sobbing, and covering the bottom of her face with her hand. 

         Finally, she stopped at a small, rust colored house. Curiously, Winter did not knock on the door. She almost certainly lived here, then, but the house and the surrounding area didn’t seem to fit with what he knew of her at all. 

         After she went into the house, Qrow chose to perch on the mailbox, which was conveniently located below the front window. He didn’t socialize with other birds much, so he wasn’t terribly convincing. He gave a few squawks and hopped around a bit on the mailbox, figuring that would be enough. He peered into the window to investigate, but he was startled to find that Winter was staring straight at him from across a small kitchen. In his panic, he did what no bird would do—he made intense, prolonged eye contact. 

         “I’ll—be right back,” he heard Winter say to someone, “There’s—it’s a bird outside. I think it’s tearing up the mailbox.” Unfortunately he recognized her tone. It was barely contained fury. 

         Qrow had a decision to make as he heard her footsteps coming back towards the front door. In the end his desire to see Winter won out, so he braced himself. 

         “Qrow!” 

         He heard her shout before he saw her. In desperation, he squawked, hoping stay in bird form for just a little longer. Winter had anticipated that. 

_Thwack—_ she hit him with a broom she had brought outside. She didn’t let up, either, smacking him with each word, “What—the—hell—are—you—doing—here?” 

         Fully disoriented, Qrow finally relented, falling to the ground as he transformed. “That’s the first time I’ve been hit with one of those,” he said, holding a hand to his head as he sat up. But he did not get a moment to steady himself, because Winter grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around to the side of the house, out of the view of the windows. 

         As she dropped Qrow, he fell to his knees. But now that he was close to her, he could see that she had been slashed across her face, from underneath one eye, across her nose to her opposite cheek. The wound was still open, and had been for a while, it seemed. 

         “What happened?” Qrow asked softly. She was taken aback, in the way she often was when someone complimented her or otherwise seemed to genuinely care about her. After an instant her face settled back into quiet fury and general distaste. 

         “I got mugged,” she said flatly, “It’s a disgrace, it shouldn’t have happened. Not to me.” 

         “Shouldn’t you get that…looked at?” Qrow wasn’t exactly a great example to follow on going to the doctor, but this looked bad. 

         “I can take of it myself!” She shouted back, and it stung. Moving on, she asked again, “What are you doing here?”

         Qrow now realized that his honest answer would sound ridiculous. _I wanted to see you._ “Well, I saw you on the street,” he said instead, “I…didn’t realized you lived out here now,” he added, not wanting to ask what was really on my mind. 

         Winter looked sad for just a moment, but it passed. “I didn’t see you for more than a year, Qrow,” she said. He couldn’t figure out if she sounded disappointed or angry. “Things have…changed. I live out here,” she seemed to be deciding whether or not to say, “with my boyfriend.” 

         Even though there was no way to avoid that conclusion based on the information he had gathered previously, he still felt his heart sink. For the first time in a very long time, Qrow put up a wall between himself and Winter. 

         “That’s fine, I don’t care,” Qrow said, not looking at her and feeling defeated. 

         This infuriated her more than he could have possibly imagined. She leaned down and grabbed the collar of his shirt as she always had when she had been particularly furious, or aroused. Her face, still covered in blood, was twisted with rage. 

         “That’s what I’ve always hated about you the most, Qrow,” Winter snarled, “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. You _do_ care. There’s never been a doubt in my mind, and especially not today. If you really want to know, this could have been you,” she gestured to the house, “I was falling for you, and you walked away. Because you can’t—or just don’t bother to imagine what anyone else might want.” 

         Qrow sat gaping, but she wasn’t finished. Winter pulled him closer until their faces were nearly touching, a familiar for the position for them. But her voice was a deadly whisper, “And I know it’s not just me. You treat everyone that way. It’s him in my house and not you because you walk away as soon as things get hard. I—and you—“ she faltered. Her face seemed to break as she tossed him to the ground. As she walked away, she said, “You never even gave me a chance.” 

\--- 

         Just as she had said, Qrow ran away, hating himself every moment of it. As a bird, he flew back to downtown Atlas. He was still disoriented from the broom, flying unpredictably, and he noticed other birds giving him a wide berth. All he could think about were Winter’s rage-filled confessions. She had been falling for him? He wondered what kind of life they could have had if he hadn’t walked away a year ago. 

         But he didn’t want to think about it, now or ever again. So Qrow landed in an alley next to the first bar he could find, and transformed when he was safely out of sight. 

         “I’d like to forget everything I’ve ever said and done,” he explained as he handed the bartender his card, “Just keep topping me off until this thing tells you to stop, then give me a roadie,” he gestured to his flask, “and we’ll be all good.” 

         The bartender shrugged, unfazed by Qrow’s attitude. “What do you want?” 

         Qrow hesitated for a long moment, then finally said, “Whiskey.” 

         His aimless drinking continued well into the evening, forgoing dinner. If he had started drinking to forget about Winter, he was doing a terrible job. The bar was close enough to the Atlas military complex that it was full of her coworkers, most dressed in the Class A uniform he had gotten so used to seeing on her. 

         It made him think of her promotion ceremony nearly two years ago, and the passionate night that followed. With just about anyone else, Qrow would have been able to walk away with nothing but a happy memory. But no matter what context he saw her in, every encounter only grew the fiery feeling in his chest that made him do stupid, reckless things. 

         Qrow knew that he wasn’t entirely at fault, and he knew that Winter probably realized that as well. As guilty as he was of walking away, she had been quick to prioritize her work above any chance they had at a real relationship.

         “She uses it as a crutch,” he drunkenly explained to a flustered young woman who had been very patiently listening to him, “So that she can pretend she feels fulfilled. That’s why she keeps pushing herself harder and harder…she thinks if she can just be _recognized_ and _respected_ and _honorable_ that she’ll suddenly be happy.” 

         After that point, Qrow began to hyper focus on Winter’s job through his drunken haze. It was the common denominator in all of their fights and disagreements. Whenever they managed to come together, it was their jobs that pushed them apart again—especially hers. He focused all of his sadness and pain and rage on that simple fact, until it drove him to action. 

         “I can’t fix it,” he slurred to the bartender, “But I have to do something.” 

         Qrow paid, stumbling out the side door to the alley. From here, he could see the Atlas military complex. At the very top of the tallest building, there was a light on. _Excellent._

         Flying took all of his concentration, and even then, he dipped and swerved erratically as if he were fighting an impossible wind. He finally made it to the window of Ironwood’s office, focusing entirely on not vomiting as he perched on the ledge. Ironwood had been staring out another window nearby, but noticed Qrow immediately. 

         “What do you want, Qrow?” Ironwood sighed. 

         “How did you know it was me?” He asked as he stepped in the window and transformed. 

         “Most real birds don’t smell like a _bar,_ ” Ironwood replied as he turned to face him, “What are you doing here?”

         Qrow had a grand, epic speech planned out before he left, but he could barely think straight now. For the first time in a while, he was starting to black out. 

         Ironwood walked back to his desk, busying himself with organizing papers while Qrow gathered his thoughts and swayed back and forth slightly. 

         “I slept with Winter Schnee,” was the only thing he managed to say. It was much less compelling than how it had sounded in his head. 

         To his surprise, Ironwood laughed. “I highly doubt that,” he said, still not looking at Qrow, “I know you danced with her at the Education Summit to irritate me, but there’s no way she would do that.” 

         It was Qrow’s turn to laugh. “ _With all due respect, General, sir,_ ” he began with a distinctly mocking tone, “She let me do all kinds of disgusting things with _and_ to her—“ Ironwood rolled his eyes “—and not just at the Education Summit either, a few—no, plenty of times before then.” 

         For the first time, Ironwood seemed to suspect that Qrow might not be lying. “I’ve kept an eye on Lieutenant Coronel Schnee’s personal life since before her promotion, I would have known if you were involved,” he explained, but he didn’t seem totally sure. 

         Qrow laughed again, which caused Ironwood to furrow his brow. “Oh, James, you put her in the Stealth division. She’s already so damn smart, and you’ve only been teaching her to get better at keeping secrets from you,” he was beside himself with drunken laughter. Ironwood seemed genuinely concerned now, but it was nothing compared to the look on his face when Qrow added, “So when did she submit her request to be transferred?” 

         Ironwood frowned, his eyes wide. “Six months ago. It just made it to my desk last week. How did you know that?” 

         “How do you _think?_ ” Qrow laughed again, feeling a bit unhinged. He had no idea what he hoped to accomplish by revealing all this to Ironwood, but a more sober version of himself would have to suffer the consequences. “Let me guess, you’re going to deny it?”

         Ironwood narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. That was answer enough for Qrow. 

         In a split second, Qrow’s maniacal laughter snapped into quiet fury. His eyes flashed as he walked up to face Ironwood, speaking to him in a deadly whisper. “You fuckers are all like this, but you’re the worst of all of them. She’s fucking brilliant, and you shove her away in the Stealth department so you can benefit from her last name without her actually knowing what you’re up to. None of you actually take her seriously, when she’s probably the best damn Huntress Atlas has had in a long time. And she just takes it, because she feels like she has to make up for everything her family has done. That’s the worst part. She blames herself for everything because she doesn’t realize you’re taking advantage of her.” 

         Ironwood didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled out his scroll and dialed a few numbers. “Security,” he said, “There’s an intruder in my office.” 

         Qrow took a few steps back from Ironwood, unclipping his sword from its strap. “Like hell I’ll let you call security on me,” he said, taking a defensive stance. 

         But Ironwood wasn’t affected, only giving him a half-smile. “Honestly, if Winter has managed to do this to you, I’m a bit proud.” 

         Qrow opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short as something pierced his skin and a feeling of intense cold flooded through his body. He glanced up as he fell to the ground. A sniper hidden away in the ceiling had hit him with a tranquilizer dart. 

         As he closed his eyes, all he saw was Ironwood’s cruel smile plastered across Winter’s face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter (as much as you can reasonably enjoy a spin on the Qrow Pain Ride). I'm incredibly swamped right now, so it'll probably be another two weeks before Chapter 14: Empty. But other good news! I finally put my writing playlist on 8tracks (https://8tracks.com/papillon-jasmin/in-contrast) so if you'd like an insight into how I get my inspiration (and hints at what might be coming next) be sure to check it out! 
> 
> Also, it looks like I'm going to be cosplaying Winter at GenCon in Indianapolis this August! Let me know on here, tumblr (papillon-jasmin) or reddit (/u/thepianoknows) if you'd like to meet up! I'm coming with my very own Weiss (my sister, ten years younger), Jaune (my brother) and Qrow (my SO). It looks like it'll be a good time, I'm very excited!


	14. Empty

     Winter had spent the last twenty minutes painstakingly applying makeup to cover up the scar on her face. In the last few months she had become well practiced at hiding it, for both personal and professional reasons. The memory of receiving it haunted her daily since then, for it was a sign of failure and weakness, but she could usually complete the process of covering it up and hiding her feelings in about ten minutes. Today was different. 

     She watched in the mirror as Will slipped into the bathroom. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek and then asked, “Are you almost ready to go?” 

     “Yeah,” she said, nodding as she stared at herself unblinking in the mirror. One could still see the scar underneath the layers of makeup—if they were looking for it. “Are you nervous?” she asked, turning to Will. 

     He pushed his glasses up his nose and laughed, “Why would I be? I’m just meeting my girlfriend’s family, who just happens to be the family controlling almost the entire Dust market of Remnant. What would I be nervous about?” he asked sarcastically. 

     Winter smiled. “You’ll be fine,” she said, laying one hand on his chest and adjusting his tie with the other. 

     The Schnee family didn’t normally celebrate holidays together. The family’s staff had arranged parties and celebrations of the requisite holidays for Winter and Weiss as they grew up, which their parents sometimes attended. As Winter got older it bothered her how arbitrary and forced it seemed, so she disregarded holidays almost entirely after she moved out. Team DAWN had broken through her cynicism for a few years, but the happy memories she had of celebrating with them were not enough to create a habit that she continued on her own. 

     Will had begun to change that. It had started with a fight, their first big fight actually, a few months after they had started dating. Winter had come home from a long day at work to find that Will had decorated his entire house for the end-of-winter celebration of love, which Winter barely knew existed except for obnoxious sales in the retail sector. So needless to say, she hadn’t bought him a gift. Will had been hurt and offended, and afraid that Winter didn’t care about him as much he cared about her. Over the course of many hours they had talked through their different perspectives and come to a mutual understanding. 

     Until now Will had spent holidays with his family, leaving Winter to catch up on work or occasionally travel home. When their relationship first began, he had pushed her a couple times to come with him and meet his family. But the more he pushed, the more she resented the idea, and he eventually dropped it. Until recently, that is. 

     “Look, I know…how you are,” Will had said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead in a way that reminded Winter of her father, “but we’ve been dating more than a year now. Normally when things get serious, people meet each other’s parents. Why don’t we arrange something with your family?”

     Winter had agreed, anticipating that her family would reject that idea so that she wouldn’t have to. To her intense surprise, her parents obliged (quite happily) and they planned to spend the spring holiday together. She had received a text from Haizea this morning that Weiss was positively bouncing off the walls with excitement. 

     Winter, like her sister, appreciated the chance to dress up. She selected the dress she wore when she graduated from Atlas Academy: a short one-shoulder cocktail dress, snug at the waist and gathered at the bodice, and stark white. The perfect Schnee dress. After staring at herself in the mirror for just a moment longer, Winter turned off the bathroom light and headed out, mentally ready to face her family. 

     Will was holding a bouquet of flowers that he had purchased to present to the Schnees upon arrival, but he was picking at them nervously. Winter offered to take them as they headed out the door. But while they sat on the train out of town Will fiddled with his glasses instead, eventually resolving to put them away in the pocket of his sport coat. Seizing the opportunity, Winter laid down the flowers and took both his hands in hers, trying to comfort him as best she could. 

     He was visibly shaking as they walked up the path to the Schnee estate. “It’s okay,” Winter whispered, rubbing his back as they walked side by side. Will laughed, his typical defense mechanism. 

     “My parents’ house is the size of one of your flower beds,” he said, his laugh shielding something he was genuinely concerned about, “Are you sure they’re going to like me?” 

     Winter was torn between comforting Will and telling the truth. “Well, to be honest, I’m not even sure they like _me,”_ she said, pausing to take his hand and give him a kiss on the cheek, “but we’re in this together.” She turned to approach the door, but he stopped her. 

     “Wait, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”

     “Can it wait?” Winter cut him off as delicately as she could, “If you want to make a good impression we should probably start with being on time,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

     “Alright, but I want to talk about it later,” he said, still trying to pull her attention away from the front door. 

     “Okay, okay,” Winter said as she knocked. In the past she had found that Will’s idea of what was important and her own rarely lined up. While they waited, he wrapped his arm around her waist. 

     Haizea answered the door, looking bright and cheery. She (and presumably the other staff members) had also dressed up for the holiday meal. Instead of the normal handshake, she pulled Winter into a brief embrace. “Winter! We’re so happy to have you here. We have a wonderful day planned,” Haizea said, showing off her clipboard containing a complex color-coded schedule. “And this must be Wilton.” 

     “Please, Will is fine,” he said, offering Haizea his hand. He seemed less nervous than before, comforted by Haizea’s warm greeting. 

     “It’s so great to meet you, Will,” she replied. After shaking his hand, Haizea immediately began scribbling away on her clipboard. “Winter, your father would like to see you first—“ she hesitated, “ _alone._ We’re still in the process of preparing the sitting room for the traditional women’s tea, so I hope you don’t mind waiting in the lounge,” she spoke to Will, looking nervous and expectant. 

     “Uh, what—I mean, no, that sounds wonderful,” he said, looking around the entrance hall with wide eyes, “Where is the lounge?” 

     Haizea was confused by his question for a moment, and then gave a small laugh. “Oh, no, one of my colleagues will be here momentarily to take you there,” she said, giving him a small bow before departing with Winter, “Thank you for coming. It’s nice to have something to celebrate around here.” 

     Winter was silent as she walked with Haizea to her father’s office. Her mind was spinning with questions, wondering what awful conversation she was about to have with him. Did he disapprove of Will already? Was this just the beginning of a good plan gone horribly wrong? She passed her father’s portrait, and the empty space after it. She could barely hear Haizea’s introduction over the sound of her heart pounding. 

     Haizea left them alone, and Winter took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her father’s desk. He was dressed up for the holiday as well, but she knew without a doubt that he would work until the very second that her mother forced him out of his office. Winter tugged the hem of her dress down towards her knees as she crossed her legs, self-conscious and nervous. 

     Her father didn’t bother to greet her. “You just can’t keep yourself out of trouble, can you?” he asked without looking at her. For just a second Winter went through the mental list of things he could possibly be talking about, but deep down she knew. She reached up to touch the bridge of her nose instinctively, where the scar was the most noticeable. 

     “It wasn’t my fault,” she said through clenched teeth. She shouldn’t have to say it at all. Even so, she continued to defend herself. “It wasn’t a gang, it wasn’t a normal mugging, they were using these weapons that—that they—never mind,” she threw up her hands, “It doesn’t matter. How did you find out?” 

     “When you passed out in the emergency room, they called me,” her father replied, looking at her over his glasses. He sighed, “It doesn’t befit a military officer to be caught in a situation like that. If you returned to us here, we could protect you.” He was staring her hard in the eyes, as if he was physically trying to control her with his mind. 

     “Right,” Winter said flatly. “Is that why you wanted to talk to me? To convince me I’m not fit to do my job?”

     “Not entirely,” he replied, declining to rise to her temper, “I wanted to speak with you about your sister.” 

     This piqued Winter’s curiosity. “What about her, is everything okay?” she asked, her anger forgotten. 

     “Weiss is…fine,” he began, hesitating. He rested on his elbows and folded his hands in front of his face, deliberating something. “She…is well into her training at Titan Combat School. It seems she will be there for the remaining duration of her secondary education,” her father said, scrutinizing Winter with his gaze all the while. 

     Her heart skipped a beat. It was what she had hoped for these past few years, Weiss had chosen the path to become a Huntress. Even more surprising, their parents had _let_ her. That explained the excitement that Haizea had described in her message. Winter and Weiss finally had something in common other than their parents. Winter fell into imagining the myriad of ways in which they could bond over weapons, over their shared semblance, and over the strenuous life of being a Huntress. 

     Her father dispelled that notion with no time to waste. “I’d prefer if you didn’t encourage this…choice of hers,” he said, and Winter’s heart sank. Of course. “We’re trying to avoid the mistakes we made with you. Combat school will enhance Weiss’ knowledge of Dust and our consumer base, and then she will return to us.” 

     “Right,” she replied, barely containing a laugh. She wasn’t close with her sister, but even she knew that pushing Weiss away from any given action was the quickest way to get her to do it. Weiss was much more organized and much less emotional than Winter, but to say she had a stubborn streak would be putting it far too lightly. 

     “You have made one good choice recently, though,” her father said as he returned to typing, “I wasn’t sure at first, but I’ve done some research on the Caldwell family. They’re not on our…level of status, but they have a good and honorable reputation.”

     “That’s good,” Winter said, feeling absolutely nothing. She wanted to put her face in her hands, she wanted to be alone. She didn’t want to see her father or mother or sister or even Will right now, and it took her a few moments to figure out why. Winter had long dreamed of getting a shred of approval from her father, and in the past she couldn’t have fathomed that it would be regarding a relationship. Why wasn’t she elated right now?

     “He could give you the life you want,” he said, looking her hard in the eye. For the first time, Winter recognized the part of her father she carried in herself. For just that moment, no one understood her like he did. The unspoken ‘if’ hung in the air ominously, but neither of them would say it. 

     “I know,” she said softly, feeling empty. 

\--- 

     Winter felt like a zombie as she joined her mother and sister in the sitting room. The whole room had been decorated with streamers and large crepe paper flowers, which contrasted uncomfortably with the room’s dark red and gold theme. The spring holiday was intended to celebrate the first flowers of the season blooming, but from year to year (in Atlas especially) it was questionable whether it would actually happen by the time the holiday occurred. 

     Already Winter could tell that this time would be very different than when she had celebrated it with Team DAWN. Darya had explained to her that the holiday revolved around a large, plant-based meal. Tradition dictated that men and women would be separated until the meal, with women having a high tea ceremony and the men drinking red wine and smoking cigars that they had saved through the winter. 

     Needless to say, the academy students had absolutely bastardized these traditions. Laughing in the face of archaic gender segregation, they spent the afternoon leading up to the meal all together, drinking whatever cheap liquor they managed to get their hands on. Every year they all attempted to smoke cigars, but only Winter and Ash could stomach them. When they were first years, Winter and Darya had been determined to teach the two boys what high tea actually entailed, but the results were more hilarious than productive. Cooking the meal was an event in itself, always led by Nalim, whose parents owned a restaurant in downtown Atlas. 

     Winter was smiling at the fond memories as she sat down at the large table. Weiss was dressed in a simple white party dress with a ribbon around the waist, and she was talking to their mother about something they had recently learned in combat school. She seemed to notice her older sister’s presence all at once, springing up out of her chair. 

     “Winter,” she cried, and for a moment it looked like she might leap into her sister’s arms and embrace her. But she stopped herself, nearly falling over in a cartoonish way. Instead she curtsied, clearing her throat and saying, “It’s wonderful to see you, sister.” 

     “It’s nice to see you too, Weiss,” Winter replied, nodding at her sister from her seat. She was utterly torn between connecting with Weiss and avoiding her father’s wrath. “Happy early birthday,” she added with a smile. 

     Weiss blushed, giving another small curtsy, “Thank you.” She returned to her seat, and Winter turned her eyes to the table before them. This was certainly not Darya’s simple tea set that they had used at the academy. It was a stark, matte, unblemished white ceramic tea set, with the Schnee family symbol embossed on each piece. It was trimmed with gold at the base of the cups and the edge of the saucers. Surrounding the tea set were an assortment of cookies, biscuits and fresh fruit. 

     Winter enjoyed the tea and snacks very quietly, listening to her mother and Weiss chat with about half her attention. She thought about Will and her father, who would be alone except for the staff. After speaking to her father, she was not worried about whether or not he would like Will. At this point she was mostly just curious—what they would talk about, what Will would think of her father. Her entire life so far, Winter had kept her family life and her romantic endeavors separate. Today, they collided for the first time. 

     Even in her wildest dreams, she could not have imagined the results. After about an hour the tea concluded and Haizea led the Schnee women to the dining room, Weiss wobbling slightly in her new high heels as she walked. When they entered the dining room, Winter noticed that Will and her father were already there, and they were _laughing._

     Her father was seated at his normal place at the head of the table and Will was leaning over him, both looking at something on a scroll on the table. Will looked up at Winter as she entered, still laughing. His blue eyes were shining. Something about the situation made her deeply uncomfortable, but the feeling faded as he smiled at her. 

     It surprised Winter even further to see her father look up and smile at her. Like she had before in his office, she felt as though they were on the same wavelength. He said so much with a single expression. “Don’t mess this up, Winter.” She could hear his voice in her head, as clearly as if he had spoken the words. 

     The way they sat at the table was quite telling. As usual Mr. Schnee sat with Mrs. Schnee to his right, but this time Will took Winter’s place at his left. She wasn’t entirely surprised, but it still hurt. On top of it, Will seemed oblivious to the fact that things were bothering her. He and her father dominated the conversation during the meal, leaving Winter to stare at her mother across the table. 

     She watched her mother open her mouth to speak a few times, but she wasn’t able to successfully interject. Her mother was oddly persistent though, and it gave Winter a bad feeling. As it often was, her feeling was right. 

     “When do you think you’ll get married?” Her mother’s voice broke through the conversation, and the entire room fell deadly silent. Even Weiss, who had been organizing the sautéed spinach into an elaborate pattern on her plate, looked up at Winter. Her heart sank. She glanced to her right to see a familiar look on Will’s face. 

     She was paralyzed, and the seconds ticked by in slow motion. The sensation reminded her of the moments leading up to an assassination, but she was much better equipped to kill someone than handle this. Winter opened her mouth and shut it a few times, glancing from one face to the next as her entire family watched her struggle to respond. 

     “I—I don’t know—know if—“ She stuttered, but she didn’t know what to say. She _should_ know, she reminded herself. This day had been a glance into what her life with Will would be like if they were together forever, and it was…fine. 

     Will’s face turned sour. Marriage was a sore subject for them, to say the least. “We’ve talked about it,” he said, which was true. Winter’s parents glanced at one another, confused by what was occurring before them. Well, her mother was confused. Her father looked peeved. 

     Her mother tilted her head, her brow furrowing in further confusion. “But—you asked about it, well, I mean, we talked about marriage once when you came home a couple years ago—I remember. It’s not like you to talk about things like that, I thought it was strange…”

_Oh my god._ It seemed like the stars had aligned to ruin everything. Winter couldn’t escape Qrow’s influence on her life, even now. She could feel Will’s gaze burning a hole in the side of her head, but she resisted the urge to look at him. 

     “Winter…I—but we—you—“ he tried to form a coherent thought but failed. She knew exactly what he wanted to know, though. He knew she had never had any serious relationships, which was true, but that didn’t line up with what her mother had just said. The answer that he was looking for was Qrow. 

     “Isn’t there something else you wanted to talk about?” Winter finally turned and asked him, with a tone like she had to physically force the words out of her body, “You said it was important.” 

     Will was an expressive person, so she watched his thought process occur on his face. He didn’t want to drop the subject, but seemed to accept that he wouldn’t make any real progress with her family around. When he sighed, Winter knew that she had succeeded in changing the subject. The tense silence was replaced by the sound of her heart beating. 

     “I saw something on your scroll this morning,” he began. 

      _Oh no._

     “Who was that message from? Why do you have to travel to Vale so suddenly? It wasn’t a mission, so…I just—why didn’t you tell me?” Will asked. He almost seemed to be pleading with her. 

     This was the only conversation topic that could have possibly been worse. Winter had blocked it from her mind the entire day, from the moment she had been staring at herself in the mirror covering up her scar. 

     “Oh, no, I—“ She stuttered, trying to figure out exactly what to say to him. She had to fight the urge to tell him the truth—the whole truth. His blue eyes were desperately asking for it. Out of the corner of her eye, Winter could see her father scowling across the table in a rare display of genuine emotion. 

     “The message was from Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy,” Winter explained, glancing around. That was true, but she was leaving out the relevant information that Ozpin was also Vale’s head spymaster, and irrevocably tied to Qrow. “I met him at the Education Summit when the Vytal Festival was in Vale,” she continued. Again, technically true, but leaving out the interesting circumstances under which they had met. “I’m not completely sure what he wants to speak to me about, but I suspect it’s about a joint mission with a Vale agent.” 

     “Really?” Will asked. “I was just worried that you hadn’t said anything to me about it yet.” 

     Winter looked at her food for a moment. “I mean, I go on missions all the time, I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. It’s nothing out of the ordinary,” she added, although that was a blatant lie. She had a few ideas about what Ozpin wanted to speak to her about, and none of them were ordinary. As she stared at her plate, all she could see was Qrow’s face staring back at her. From the night they met, to him on his knees in her front yard, he invaded her thoughts. 

     “I just,” Will seemed to be struggling to say something, “I was worried that…you were thinking of transferring elsewhere. Away from me.” His face fell, and Winter looked back over at him suddenly. “I’m just afraid…you’ll leave. You’re not…hiding anything from me, are you?”

     Winter closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them, and took a deep breath before saying, “Of course not.” 

—- 

     Her meeting with Ozpin came a few days later. At his request, she lied about where she was going to her superior officer, even though it made her uncomfortable. There was nothing to be gained from her boss—or, god forbid, Ironwood—digging into her personal life. Before she left, Winter continuously assured Will that nothing was amiss. Really, there was nothing to be gained from telling him about Qrow either. 

     To avoid drawing attention to herself, Winter dressed in plain clothes instead of her uniform, and took a commercial flight to Vale. She wasn’t quite sure what the meeting would be about, but she knew one thing for certain. 

     Sure enough, there he was, standing next to Ozpin’s desk, with his arms crossed. He was smirking. 

     “Welcome back, Ice Queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm having trouble keeping up with all of my projects at the moment, but after GenCon things should (hopefully) lighten up considerably for me. 
> 
> Next up, Chapter 15: Mistakes!


	15. Mistakes

            “Welcome back, Ice Queen.”

            Winter glared at him, which was about what Qrow had expected.

            “Yes, it’s good to see you again, Miss Schnee,” Ozpin said, ignoring the sentiment behind Qrow’s words and choosing to take them at face value. “I appreciate you coming to meet with us, and for having the discretion to come in plain clothes. I know how fond you are of your uniform, but it’s not exactly…appropriate for this meeting.”

            Winter sat down in the chair in front of Ozpin’s desk, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. She was wearing a short sleeved blouse, unbuttoned to a point that Qrow was quite pleased with, a grey vest, and a short, pleated skirt. He wondered if that was what she had worn at Atlas Academy before entering the military, but now wasn’t exactly the time to ask. He tried to focus on the matter at hand, rather than how much he wanted to undo the rest of the buttons.

            “So, I presume that…General Ironwood doesn’t know about this meeting?” Winter asked, looking more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She seemed to be struggling to even hold eye contact with Ozpin at this point, and was ignoring Qrow outright.

            “That’s correct,” Ozpin replied, nodding, “And again, I appreciate your discretion in leaving him out of the loop for the time being. As we continue I’m sure you’ll realize why I requested that you do so, and that it is directly for your benefit.”

            After a pause, he said, “I hope it wasn’t too difficult to get away from work.” Qrow laughed to himself quietly. Ozpin wasn’t exactly a pro when it came to smalltalk, that was about the best anyone was going to get out of him. It was clear he was trying to make Winter feel more comfortable, and failing hilariously.

            When she didn’t answer right away, Qrow interjected, “Are you kidding? I doubt she’s ever used a vacation day in her entire life.” This, too, was only worth a glare.

            “I wasn’t quite sure…why you called me here,” she said slowly.

            “I bet you have a few ideas though, don’t you,” Ozpin said, with a small spark in his eye.

            Winter sighed. “Just one, actually,” she said, “But I didn’t know…why you wanted to talk about it.”

            “We’re not here to rub salt in your wound, so to speak,” Ozpin said, flashing a brief glance at Qrow as if to remind him of that, “In fact, after Qrow returned from your last…encounter, he mentioned to me how strange it was that a highly skilled agent such as yourself could be…subdued in those circumstances.”

            It was Qrow’s turn to look uncomfortable. He had asked Ozpin not to say that this was his idea, in case it all blew up in his face later. But Ozpin had always been fascinated with the effect that Winter seemed to have on him, and had ignored his request. At least Qrow got to enjoy the odd face Winter always made when someone complimented her. It always gave the impression that she didn’t know how to handle praise, which was probably true.

            Ignoring the tension in the room, Ozpin continued, “Let me ask you, Miss Schnee, what information did you gather about your attackers? Did you notice anything strange about the circumstances of the attack?”

            Winter thought for a moment. She seemed to be more comfortable now, removing herself from the personal details of what had happened and focusing on it in a professional capacity instead. Ozpin seemed to have a pretty good idea of how to deal with her.

            “I…did, actually. In Stealth, we don’t believe in coincidences,” she began firmly, “And the day that I was attacked was the only time that I had been in physical training all day. Any other day in the month, even three months, and my aura would not have been completely depleted when I left work. They—blinded me first. With something that made my eyes burn and run. So I didn’t get a good look at them, but…” she hesitated a long time. Ozpin waited patiently. “One of them was a Faunus. A deer Faunus, I think.”

            “I can imagine why you didn’t put that in your official report,” Ozpin said. Winter seemed to want to say something, but chose not to.

            Ozpin cleared his throat and continued, “As I said before, at Qrow’s request—“ Qrow flinched again, and wondered if Ozpin had said that for that very reason, “—we began an investigation.” He said it slowly, trying his best to sound gentle.

            But Winter wasn’t quite on board yet. “An…investigation? It was just a mugging. It happens all the time to all sorts of people. What could you have possibly found?”

            “While I’m sure many people in your life—superior officers, loved ones even—“ Winter cringed, “—have struggled to convince you that it was an ordinary act of random violence,” he paused, “Did you ever truly believe that?”

            Winter was struck, in the way that many people who spoke to Ozpin were. He had a habit of getting right to the core of a person in a way that no one else could. “No, I didn’t,” she said quietly.

            “Good,” Ozpin replied, “because you shouldn’t have. It was not ordinary or random, not in the slightest.”

            “Are you…going to tell me what’s going on? It seems like you’re avoiding the actual subject,” Winter said, narrowing her eyes.

            Qrow and Ozpin glanced at one another. “I apologize, Miss Schnee,” Ozpin said, “As it often is, the truth is quite…difficult to say.”

            Qrow stepped in. “Winter, your dad’s involved,” he said firmly.

            “What?” Winter was horrified, “That can’t—you must be—“

            Ozpin attempted to calm her down, “You should know, first, that your father meant no harm to you. Well, no _physical_ harm, at least.”

            “Things have never really been sunshine and rainbows between you and pops, huh? Even with a nice respectable man in your life now?” Qrow couldn’t resist taking a jab at Winter, even now. He watched as her face twitched with the physical effort of holding back a reply.

            Ozpin sighed. “Your father seems to be unhappy with your career choice. Of course, there has always been speculation by the general public, seeing that the Schnee legacy had chosen a different path…” he trailed off, staring intently into Winter’s eyes, studying her, “But that’s another conversation entirely. He reached out, seeking to end your career politically, quietly, so as not to bring shame to your family.”

            As Qrow had anticipated, Winter looked positively furious. It was refreshing to see that look directed at someone other than him.

            “Your father provided the greatest weapon he possibly could have given them—your schedule. Your desire to share your life with your family was used for insidious purposes,” Ozpin continued, “And for that, I am truly sorry.”

            Winter spoke through gritted teeth, “Well clearly I was not attacked _politically._ What happened?”

            Qrow and Ozpin looked at one another again. “Your father made a rather unfortunate…mistake in choosing who he reached out to. I don’t believe in coincidences either, Miss Schnee. I believe these people—I should specify, these Atlas military operatives—made themselves known to your father because…they were members of the White Fang.”

            Winter gasped. “White Fang…in the Atlas military? How…could this…?” Something seemed to occur to her, “If you knew this, why not tell General Ironwood? Our national security is at stake, why tell _me_ and not him?”

            “I trust James, and he is a dear friend and a great ally,” Ozpin began, clearly wanting to solidify his position before saying, “but how do you think he would react to a White Fang sleeper cell deep undercover within his ranks?”

            Qrow knew exactly how, and he knew Winter did too. Ironwood had always been privately leery of Faunus, especially ones from outside the kingdoms. But besides that, there were a couple more benefits to keeping the general out of the loop.

            “This way good ol’ Jimmy gets to save face. If there’s no official report, he can deny everything. If we do well, we can take care of it without him even knowing,” Qrow explained.

            Winter finally looked at him, speaking directly to him for the first time since she had come in, “If ‘we’…’take care of it?’”

            “I’m sure we don’t have to tell you how dangerous four White Fang members are with access to Atlas military equipment and intelligence,” Ozpin said slowly, choosing his words very carefully, “So in addition to addressing—as you put it—a threat to national security, there is an opportunity here for…vengeance, if you so choose.”

            In that moment, Winter looked particularly human. For so long, she had been something like a concept in Qrow’s mind and heart—a puzzle, an enigma. But she was a person who had been hurt, and she was trying to decide whether she would hurt someone back. Right now, she was a person not entirely different from him.

            “I’ll do it. But not for vengeance,” she said without looking at either of them, which made Qrow think she wasn’t entirely sure about the second part.

            “Excellent. But you must understand that this is our mission, and I’m not comfortable sending you in alone, so…”

            “Yes, of course,” Winter said, not bothering to hide her irritation, “I’m sure Qrow has to come.” She spoke to Ozpin but looked directly at Qrow the entire time. He winked, and she rolled her eyes.

            “I’ll send the mission details to your scroll through our private channel. You’ll have a day to prepare, and then Qrow will rendezvous with you in Atlas,” Ozpin said. He offered his hand for her to shake. “It was nice to see you again, Miss Schnee. We always seem to meet under less-than-pleasant circumstances.”

            Winter shook his hand as she stood up. “Truer words have never been spoken, sir,” she said. As she turned around, her eyes lingered on Qrow, but she otherwise did not acknowledge him.

            Without giving it a single thought, Qrow dashed after her, just making it into the elevator as the doors were closing. _Excellent._ For just a few moments, they were stuck together.

            Surprisingly, Winter did not ignore him, but she led with an exasperated sigh. “What do you want, Qrow?”

            “I want you to have a drink with me,” he said, smirking at her. She looked over at him, and all he could think of was her smile, her cheeks flushed with laughter. Her words—‘I was falling for you’—rang in his ears.

            “I’m not going to fuck you, Qrow,” she sighed.

            “I’m well aware of that,” he began, “and frankly it’s a damn shame. No, it turns out I actually enjoy your company.” Winter stared at him for a few moments. He wondered what she was remembering. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “And you look like someone who needs a drink.”

            Winter rolled her eyes again and folded her arms across her chest, but she was smirking now too. “Is that so?” she asked, finally matching his sly tone.

            “Oh absolutely,” he replied, putting a hand on her shoulder in mock concern, “Maybe more than you’ve ever needed a drink in your entire life.”

            She laughed, and the sound filled Qrow with a feeling he couldn’t quite place.

            “Not quite, close though,” she said, walking out of the elevator as the doors opened on the ground floor.

            “Really?” he asked as he followed her, “What could be worse than White Fang-flavored family drama?”

            She gave a short laugh and turned around to face him, “You, of course.”

—-

            They selected a bar in midtown Vale, far enough away that Winter wouldn’t be recognized by nosy Beacon elites, but crowded enough that they wouldn’t stick out.

            As their first drinks arrived, Qrow said, “So, tell me about your boyfriend.”

            Winter nearly spit out her drink in disbelief. “Ha! No. We are absolutely not having that conversation,” she said, shaking her head. She took an impressively large gulp of her drink, almost in response to the idea of talking to Qrow about her love life.

            “Why?” Qrow whined melodramatically, smirking at her.

            “Because,” Winter drew out the word, mocking his tone, “I know exactly how that will go.”

            He rested his upper arm on the bar, resting the side of his head on his hand and leaning just a bit closer to her. “And how is that?”

            She took another long drink, polishing off the rest of her whiskey old fashioned.

            “Yikes,” Qrow said, but she ignored it.

            “It’ll go like this,” she began with a sigh, “I’ll tell you a little bit about him, you’ll just make fun of him and tell me all these things that are wrong with him.”

            “Oh, so something _is_ wrong with him,” he replied with a chuckle. Winter only narrowed her eyes at him in response. He leaned closer, studying her face intently. To his surprise, she didn’t lean away. “Oh, I see,” he said slowly, “There’s something wrong with him, you just haven’t figured it out yet. _Interesting._ ”

            “Yeah, that’s about how it sounded in my head,” Winter replied, pressing her lips together.

            She looked peeved, so he backed off. She turned back towards the bar, clutching her empty glass tightly. Qrow turned as well. He was interested in keeping her around, and in relatively good spirits, so he admitted, “I don’t know if it makes you feel any better, but I hear your voice in my head sometimes too.”

            Winter turned back towards him, and her face softened. “It…does, actually,” she said. “What do I usually say in your head?” she asked, almost smiling.

            “Hmm, put another couple drinks in me and maybe you can find out,” Qrow answered matter-of-factly.

            And much to his surprise, she did. The stiffness and awkwardness that remained between them evaporated with their second and third drinks. They talked about their families (carefully avoiding names) and told stories from their school days.

            “Wait, you’re telling me you weren’t our team leader?” Qrow said in utter disbelief, “That’s ridiculous, I would have guessed for sure that you belonged to Team WHTE or something. Maybe even Team WNTR.”

            Winter laughed, despite the fact that she was currently taking a drink. She giggled, wiped her mouth and replied, “Oh no, god no. Darya was a great team leader. Anyway, the important part—well the part that answers your question, at least—is that my team was in an accelerated program leading to military service. That’s why we graduated early. We were Team DAWN. Not to brag, but a lot of teams tried to do it and failed.” But she didn’t look proud. Instead she looked wistful, staring off into the space behind the bar.

            “I guess you miss them, don’t you?” Qrow said, avoiding all of the sarcastic comments his mind supplied him with. Although he had known it was possible, even likely, he had always had trouble imagining Winter in the context of a group of friends. Not right now, though. When she turned back to him and smiled, he could picture her relaxed, joking and laughing. That particular side of Winter had always been his favorite.

            “Of course,” she said, with an odd, sad smile. “The future we had all imagined together…of course it didn’t pan out that way. Darya went into Technology Development, I went into Stealth, and Nalim went into the Atlas Security division. Ash…was disenchanted by the military pretty quickly. Not unlike you. He quit and he’s been keeping a pretty low profile as a Hunter ever since.”

            It occurred to Qrow that she deliberately kept her history hidden away. It didn’t seem to be for a scandalous or unflattering reason. It wasn’t really for any reason at all, other than it didn’t fit the public persona she had constructed long ago. Isolated, terrifying, and cold. Right now, she was none of those things.

            Winter shook her head. “I know it’s stupid to complain to you, of all people, about missing my team though,” she said, her smile fading.

            Qrow was struck. He had not forgotten that he had shared his past with her, but something about her mentioning it left him dumbfounded. She had remembered. When she thought of her own pain, she had thought of his as well. Not only was she a real, complicated person with her own past, her own thoughts and feelings and dilemmas, she seemed to care about him. She had plenty of other options, and tonight, she had chosen him.

            The next couple drinks loosened their tongues even further. As Winter fervently destroyed the slice of lime at the bottom of her gin and tonic, she said something without prompting.

            “His name is Will,” she said it so quickly that Qrow did not understand the words.

            “What?” he asked. Through his intoxicated haze he realized that they had moved closer together throughout the night, their knees nearly touching now. Even after all this time, the years of back and forth and the nights they spent together, the most casual touches from Winter could drive him crazy.

            “His name is Will and he’s…fine,” she said again, not looking at him. Qrow raised his eyebrows. Not too long after Winter had hit him with the broom, he had accepted that he would never know anything about her significant other. Why did she want him to know?

            “He’s…fine?” He repeated, with all kinds of questions in his voice. Winter shrugged, and did not elaborate, so they moved on to a different subject.

            In the interest of their productivity the following day, they started to sober up. It had no effect on how close they were sitting, or the way they whispered to one another.

            “I was supposed to fly back to Atlas tonight, after the meeting,” she admitted.

            “But you didn’t,” Qrow replied, though it was unnecessary. Winter said so much with her eyes, he needed to take a moment just to listen. He had been wondering all night, but it was finally the perfect time to ask. “Why? Why did you spend time with me…after things…last time?”

            “I…enjoy your company, sometimes, too,” she replied hesitantly. She seemed so nervous that this simple admission may well have been a confession of her undying love. She was looking away from him again, but he could still tell that her face was redder than he had ever seen it before. “I’ve…wanted to apologize for what happened last time I saw you.”

            This didn’t seem to be what Winter was working up the courage to say, but Qrow responded anyway. “I can’t really blame you. I caught you at a bad time, to say the least. And whatever it is we have, or had, has always been…”

            As he searched for the right word, she offered it for him, “…complicated.”

            “Right,” Qrow continued, watching her. She still looked uncomfortable, even embarrassed. “I should have known better than to show up like that.”

            “These—these past few years, you’ve been coming to Atlas and showing up all over my life,” Winter said, suddenly deciding to say what she had been holding back, “I…wanted to run into you this time. Regardless of what—whatever happens, I care about you, I really do,” she looked down as if admitting something shameful, “And I’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”

            Winter seemed to be trying to shrink into herself, to avoid the consequences of what she had said. But Qrow responded, and not quite in the way she seemed to be expecting.

            He gently placed his hand under her chin, and tilted her flushed face upwards to look back at him. He examined her with something halfway between a smirk and a smile. “Ice Queen, are you…melting?”

            She attempted to say something to protest, but couldn’t quite form words. As their faces drew closer, Qrow whispered, “Don’t worry. You melted me long ago.”

            Their lips were nearly touching now. The commotion of the bar didn’t even register in his mind anymore. The only person that existed in the entire world was her. But before they touched, she stopped, and opened her eyes.

            “I can’t, Qrow,” she whispered, “I’ve made enough mistakes with you for tonight.” She stood up and turned away, then hesitated. For a moment she seemed to give in, and let herself run her fingers through his hair, as she had done so many times before.

            “For tonight?” He asked, reveling in the implication.

            As she walked away, she turned to face him again. “Yes,” she said with a small smile, “For tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday everyone! I had a ridiculous amount of fun cosplaying as Winter at GenCon, and I'm hoping to take that cosplay out for a photoshoot sometime while the weather is still nice! Now that the con is over and done with, I'm hoping to have a little more time to write. If I can really get moving, I might be able to post Chapter 16: Charisma next Wednesday, otherwise it'll be the Wednesday after that. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your continued support!! With Chapter 14 I broke 2,750 hits, something I couldn't have imagined when I started this project. Thanks for sticking with me!


	16. Charisma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're ready, kids, because I've been pumped to post this chapter for a LONG time. :)

            Winter felt messed up inside, and only partially because of the hangover. She had always hated airports, and all of the circumstances only made things worse. While at the bar the previous night, she had texted Will that something had come up, and she wouldn’t make it back that night as planned. She had told him that it was classified, and he responded that he understood, and to stay safe, and that he loved her.

            She had received another text from him that morning, while she was trying to get a new ticket home, asking if everything was okay. Winter had typed out and deleted three separate texts back, dampening her anger a little more each time. It wasn’t Will’s fault, she reminded herself, she had kept him in the dark about so many things for so long. She was angry at herself for almost crossing that line with Qrow last night, and she was angry at the airport for being horrible in the way that airports inevitably are. So she let Will know that she would be home in a few hours, and she was happy to see him.

            She slept through the entire plane ride, and was still in a haze when she arrived in Atlas. The thought of the White Fang, still out there, equipped by the Atlas military, jerked her out of it. She wouldn’t be able to truly rest until the threat had been dealt with, and hopefully she wouldn’t have to.

            It was around lunchtime when Winter returned home. She was surprised to see that Will was there, until she remembered it was Saturday. He was washing dishes when she came in.

            “Are you okay, what happened?” He asked, setting down what he was working on and drying off his hands. Winter realized that she must look as rough as she felt.

            “I can’t talk about it,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her hair.

            “Are you sure? I’m really worried,” Will replied, and began to take off his glasses, “Please tell me.”

            “Wait,” Winter said suddenly, taking even herself by surprise. “Stop,” she said simply, reaching out her open hand for emphasis. All of a sudden she could feel her heart pounding. She didn’t know why she had said it, but she knew that her subconscious had just figured something out. Will had stopped dead, halfway through setting his glasses down on the kitchen table. “Why did you do that?” she asked.

“Do…what?” he said, still unmoving. Winter’s mind was spinning. Her conscious mind was almost caught up. Something was terribly wrong with this situation.

            “You took off your glasses,” she said, narrowing her eyes. Her voice was quiet, but dead serious, “Why?”

            A look flashed across Will’s face for half a second, then was replaced with confusion. “I don’t know—I just, get tired of wearing them sometimes. I think I concentrate better without them on,” he explained.

            Something like relief washed over Winter, and she wasn’t quite sure why. In fact, it didn’t replace the horrible pounding of her heart at all, but rather covered it up somehow. There wasn’t any reason she needed to worry about Will, after all. The thought seemed to float through her mind in a way that it wasn’t connected to any of the others. Her heart beat faster. She had taken a step closer to Will without realizing she was doing it. She desperately wanted to look away from him, to break away from his hard gaze, but found she could not. She had found his explanation reassuring, but at the same time could not escape the feeling of sheer horror still growing in her chest. As Winter stared back at Will, time seemed to slow to a crawl.

            Without thinking, Winter closed her eyes, and everything changed.

            “Stop,” she repeated, and this time it did stop. The feeling of relief vanished instantly, and the horror began to dull as well. She turned around completely before opening her eyes again. She was facing the wall now, with her back to Will. She stared out the window for a few moments, blinking into the cloudy afternoon. While she watched, a familiar black bird landed on the mailbox. “How dare you,” she whispered to it, but she didn’t have time to think about him now. The feeling that something was horribly wrong lingered, but it didn’t return in full force as it had when her eyes were open before. One thing was very clear now.

            “What did you do to me?” she asked softly. Winter crossed her arms, hunching over and folding into herself in a way that she hadn’t done in a very, very long time. She felt violated, and she was very close to figuring out exactly why.

            Will tried to speak. “I—Winter—you—I—I swear I was going to tell you, I just—“

            Instantly, she snapped. “What did you do to me?” she shouted, spinning on her heels to face him again, her fists balled in anger. “Why did you take your glasses off?” she asked a third time, and he finally answered.

            “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while,” he said quietly, looking at the floor, “Actually, I was planning on telling you when you got home from your meeting. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us anymore. I didn’t—well, a long time ago, when we first started dating, I—wasn’t completely honest with you about something,” he paused for what felt like an eternity, then said, “about my semblance.”

            It was a few moments before Winter’s mind was actually able to process the words that Will had said. It almost seemed if she had imagined them. But she knew she hadn’t, because he continued speaking without looking at her.

            “I’ve been able to use it ever since they unlocked my aura. It’s not…my mom says it’s ‘mind control’, but it’s not—not really,” he said. Winter pressed her lips together, suddenly realizing she was holding her breath. “It’s…I always called it ‘charisma’. I could use it to pull people closer to me in battle and I found out—eventually, as I practiced—that I could use it to…convince people of things,” he said, his voice full of hesitation. She opened her mouth to speak, but Will seemed to anticipate what she was going to say.

            “I can’t force people to do anything,” he said hurriedly, throwing his hands up in surrender, “I can’t use it with my glasses on, I need eye contact that’s completely unbroken. And I,” his voice fell, “I never wanted it to affect our relationship.”

            “You…” Winter trailed off. She had so many things to say, but none of them made it to her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but decided to turn away from him again before doing so. Right now, she couldn’t bear to look at him. The bird was still there, so it wasn’t her imagination, and it was definitely Qrow.

            “The first time we met,” she began, her voice oddly calm, “You took off your glasses while we sparred. I was planning on starting out defensively, but I didn’t.” Beneath all the feelings of rage and betrayal, it was satisfying to figure out so many tiny abnormalities all at once. The pieces were finally fitting together.

            “I’m so sorry, Winter,” he said, looking up at her finally. She turned back around, gaping. She wanted to say, ‘How dare you?’ and explain that this was not like the time he knocked her heirloom glass off the countertop and shattered it. She wanted to tell him that this was not the kind of thing you apologize for.

            Instead, she said, “Do it.” Her voice was dead cold and her face was stone.

            Will was taken aback. “What?”

            “Do it,” she repeated, “Use your semblance on me. I need to know what it feels like.”

            He seemed to weigh his options and realize that he had nothing to gain by refusing. “Okay,” he said. They locked eyes once more, and Winter was suddenly filled with a familiar warm glow. That exact feeling was unmistakably intertwined with her relationship with Will. Now that she knew what it was, she couldn’t stand it. Winter closed her eyes and felt it fade.

            “Do you…love me?” Will asked, with a tone that revealed he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Can you…say you love me…with your eyes closed?”

            “I—“ Winter stuttered, filled with an overpowering fear. She could feel her entire life slipping away in a matter of moments. Everything she considered to be normal was falling apart. “I don’t know,” she said. She took a few steps past him into the living room, not looking at him. “I—need some time to think.”

            She heard Will take a breath to respond, but it was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Winter’s heart seemed to drop into her stomach. The absolute last thing she needed right now was him. She turned her head just enough to see that Will looked at her for a few long moments before going to answer it.

            “I’m looking for…Agent…Schnee?” Qrow’s voice floated in from the front door. Winter was pleasantly surprised at his approach to the situation. She had half expected for him to swoop in with the intention of sweeping her off her feet in her moment of vulnerability. Deep down, she wondered if maybe that’s what she had wanted him to do. Instead, they were pretending they didn’t know each other for a second time.

            Winter turned around to look at him, but Will blocked them from seeing one another. “Who are you?” He asked, suspiciously.

            “He’s my mission partner, from Vale,” Winter spoke up. “Agent Branwen,” she added, without thinking. Both she and Qrow faltered for half a second when she used his real last name, but they continued with the façade effortlessly.

            “Mission partners?” Will repeated, and Winter realized he was trying to use his semblance on Qrow.

            “Yes,” he replied, smooth and unfazed, “I’ve received some new intel, we have to move sooner than originally planned.”

            “Right,” Winter said, “I just need a moment to…” she trailed off, gesturing back to the bedroom. She would have to change into her Class A uniform and retrieve her weapon. She reveled in the fact that the mask she would wear for this infiltration would be the one she wore every day of her life.

            “Of course,” Qrow said, looking past Will at her with his red eyes. “Do you mind if I step inside?” He added to Will, “I think it’s starting to rain.”

            Like a bizarre nightmare, Qrow Branwen and Wilton Caldwell made small talk while Winter changed her clothes in the next room. Her mind was still spinning with the revelations from her conversation with Will, so she didn’t have time to stop and work out how she was supposed to feel about this. And frankly, her stomach still wasn’t quite right. But when she put on her uniform and attached her rapier to her belt, Winter felt safe.

            She returned to a scene just as odd as the one she had left. Qrow was leaning against the kitchen countertop, regaling Will with the details of a fake life that he had used before, in an Atlas military bar a few years ago. Winter felt a stab of something to her heart, and ignored it. Will was clearly still trying to use his semblance on Qrow, and was beginning to get frustrated that it wasn’t working.

            Will turned to Winter as she emerged, and she wondered if he would be foolish enough to try and use it on her now. He did not. “Are you sure you have to leave? I’d feel better if we could…talk…about things,” he said. He sounded deflated compared to when he had the magic of his semblance backing him up.

            Winter still found herself disgusted. “Yes, I have to leave,” she said, brushing by him as she walked, “And honestly, I don’t have anything to say to you right now.” She had tried to keep her voice calm, and failed. The last few words revealed her barely-contained rage.

            “Please, Winter, I—“

            Something about the way he said her name infuriated her. “No,” she said, spinning on her heels and pointing at him, “You have no right. Not anymore.” It occurred to her that she could leave him, right now, forever. She would never have to think about him or the way he treated her ever again. She had more than enough money, she could take her uniform and her weapon and never return to this house. If she left Will now, she could leave all of the horrible feelings here with him.

            But she couldn’t. Something was stopping her. Winter recognized that it was the logical decision, but something deep inside wouldn’t let her pull the trigger. She closed her eyes to make sure that it wasn’t the effect of Will’s semblance. No, it was definitely real. So instead of leaving him, Winter stormed out without a word, and Qrow followed.

            As he closed the door behind them, Winter gritted her teeth. She was preparing for the flood of sarcastic comments that was surely to follow. Then after those, it would be all of the “I told you so’s”, then the hints that she should get revenge by sleeping with him. But strangely, none of that ever came. He walked a few feet behind her, his soft footsteps like the beat of a drum.

            It was a few blocks later that the rain came in full force. Qrow ducked into an alley, grabbing Winter’s arm and leading her under an overhang. She would have sworn that he was about to say that she needed a drink. She opened her mouth to cut him off, but stopped dead when what she heard was,

            “I’m sorry, Ice Queen.”

            Winter stood there for a moment, her mouth still open. There was a crack of lightning followed shortly by a boom of thunder. Where was all his cynicism? As if he had heard her thought, he shrugged. “I know things haven’t always been great between us, but that was hard to watch,” he admitted, “I wouldn’t have wished that on you even when I hated your guts.”

            His words were rough, but the sentiment behind them made Winter’s eyes sting at the edges. There would come a time when she would be willing to break down and let her fury give way to sadness. But not yet.

            “I don’t want to leave him,” Winter heard herself say. As much as she hated herself for it, there was no one she else wanted to share her feelings with right now. No one but Qrow. “Is that…stupid?” She asked, folding her arms as if physically trying to cover up her vulnerability.

            Qrow thought for a moment before answering. “Of course it is,” he began slowly, speaking as if every word was causing physical pain, “But my—uh, opinions—aside, you’ve…always talked about who you want to _be_ and the life you want to have. If you have the life you wanted, I mean, I bet you didn’t plan on all the lies and manipulation and—what did he call it?— _charisma_ ,” he added with a chuckle, “But nobody’s perfect. I guess…I’ve always thought that in Remnant, you can’t wait for the perfect person to come along. If you find a connection, well, sometimes that’s the only chance you get and you have to make it work, no matter what it takes.”

            There was another crack of lightning. Winter stood there, staring at him, rain dripping from her hair onto her white uniform. For a moment, all the walls in her mind fell down, and she allowed herself to imagine a future other than the one she had planned. There in the rain, she let herself imagine a future with Qrow.

            They had sometimes been at odds, but he had never lied to her or deceived her. Qrow had always given her his whole, genuine self, even the parts she didn’t like. Which was more than she could say about Will. When she had been injured, Qrow had followed her home, and began an investigation even after she pushed him away. When everyone else in her life questioned everything—her physical abilities, her intelligence, her worthiness of the Schnee name—Qrow hadn’t. She let herself imagine falling asleep in his arms, knowing he would be there in the morning, every morning. But only for a moment.

            It wasn’t long before doubt crept in. How would Qrow fit into the other parts of her life? The way Will had clicked so well with her father was…unnerving (and probably largely due to his semblance, she realized), but introducing Qrow to the Schnees would be catastrophic. And her job…things didn’t seem terribly pleasant between him and Ironwood, which could get in the way of her career. But all that aside, she couldn’t deny the feeling she had as she stood there, looking at him through the rain. It was not unlike the warm glow of Will’s semblance, but stronger, fiery, driving her to action. And most importantly, it was real.

            And then, just like that, the moment was over. With a hundred thousand things she wanted to say (and perhaps, should have said), all she managed to get out was,

            “Thanks, Qrow, for everything.”

            “Huh, and not a hint of sarcasm,” he replied with a joking tone, dragging the conversation up from the depths of seriousness. “Don’t thank me yet, we have a whole infiltration coming up,” he added, “If I totally blow it you’ll regret being this nice to me.” He was still messing around, but underneath his smile was the same expression of pain.

            “Have you ever ‘totally blown it’ on anything, ever?” Winter asked, rising to his lighthearted tone.

            “More times than you know, Ice Queen,” he replied with a wink. The wink was almost like a spell. In an instant, she was free of the worries that lay on her chest. Will’s betrayal, her complex longing for a future that might not exist, it was all lifted off her shoulders. All she could think about now was—

            “The infiltration,” she said suddenly, “What’s the new intel you got?”

            “Oh, it’s nothing,” Qrow said, waving his hand.

            “No, I’m sure it’s relevant somehow, what is it?” She asked.

            “No, I mean, it’s literally nothing,” he replied with a sigh, “I made it up to get you out of there. Don’t worry, it was purely selfish. I couldn’t stand another minute of that shit show.”

            “Right,” Winter said, and it seemed obvious in retrospect, “Thanks…again,” she said as she was violently hurled back into the vivid memory of her conversation with Will. The wounds were still fresh. Every time she pictured it in her mind, it was like it was happening all over again. She covered her face with her hands, trying to contain tears again. “I don’t know what to do,” was all she could say.

            Qrow placed his hands on her shoulders tentatively, as if asking permission. Winter obliged, burying her head in his chest. He sighed, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and holding the back of her head with another. “Let me guess, you haven’t eaten since yesterday?” he asked. When she shook her head, unable to speak, he said, “Well, let’s start with that. Then I was thinking stabbing some people would make you feel better.”

            She pulled away for a moment to give him a watery smile and say, “Why, are you volunteering?”

            “If it comes down to it,” Qrow said with a laugh, pulling away with one hand still on her shoulder, “But I have some…worthier targets in mind.”

            Winter found herself feeling like she hadn’t been ready to let go just yet. As he led them back out into the rain, she realized that Qrow had his own special way of pulling her closer to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it! Everyone who had a bad feeling about Will was definitely justified. This is has been in the works since I first conceptualized him as a character. While you're waiting for Chapter 17: Infiltration, I highly recommend taking a peek back at the last few Winter chapters with this new perspective. ;P


	17. Infiltration

     “Why did you come to see me, then?” Winter asked, and it snapped Qrow out of a trance.   
     “Huh?” He asked. His brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.   
     “You came early, but you didn’t actually have any intel. Why did you show up at my house?” Her tone was firm, but not accusatory. They were sitting in a packed diner in downtown Atlas, both fully armed and in uniform. Here, they blended in perfectly to the crowd, and no one would be able to eavesdrop even if they wanted to.   
     Truthfully, Qrow had left Vale early because he had wanted to spend more time with her. At the time, he hadn’t really figured out how that was going to work with regards to Will, but he had assumed an excuse would present itself. Luckily for him, it did.   
     “Something stuck out to me—in your official report,” he said. This was true, but he wasn’t going to mention that he had not read until he was on the plane to Atlas, fervently searching for an excuse to talk to her.   
     “You read my report?” She asked, with that particular tone of surprise.   
     “Hey, I read reports every once in a while,” he laughed, “When it suits me. Anyway, you included a sketch of a weapon that one of them had, because it seemed odd to you.” Qrow reached into the breast pocket of his stiff, white Atlas jacket and removed the sketch. “You drive me crazy sometimes, but damn, you’re thorough.”  
     Winter blushed slightly. “Well?” she said, not looking at him.   
     “Well,” he repeated for emphasis, “A few days ago I procured the new standard issue Special Ops set for the mission.” He moved on quickly so as not to give her the opportunity to realize that he had begun preparing for the mission before she had accepted it. “And I received this,” he said. He removed from his belt a gun that matched Winter’s sketch exactly.   
     As he had expected, Winter connected the dots instantly. “They’ve infiltrated Technology Development,” she gasped. Her eyes were wide. The idea of the White Fang equipped with the most updated, efficient and unstable Atlas military technology was terrifying by itself. And, he figured, it was infinitely more terrifying for a Schnee.   
     “Ozpin named you agent-in-command for this mission,” Qrow offered, “What do you want to do?”  
     “I want to bring in Darya Balik,” Winter said, without hesitation, “If they find out we’re onto them, she’s in danger.”  
     While Winter called her former teammate, Qrow ordered the two of them drinks so as not to arouse suspicion. The waitress came back to check on them shortly after Winter returned.  
     “Are we celebrating anything today?” The waitress asked in a too-cheery voice. She glanced from Qrow to Winter, both of them silent. Winter’s face flushed a deep red. The waitress drew her own conclusions, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. “Well, alright, let me know if you need anything, lovebirds.”  
     She was still blushing furiously, looking down at the table with a half-smile when Darya arrived.  
Qrow knew it was Darya because of what Winter had told him about her at the bar the previous night. He also recognized her from the Education Summit, when he had asked Winter to dance. Darya had warm brown skin and lots of navy blue hair that fell in waves to her waist. As Winter had mentioned, she looked extremely uncomfortable in her uniform, which hid most of her prosthetic arm. She was wringing her hands in discomfort—one skin, one metal. Qrow looked up to see that her dark blue eyes, behind silver-rimmed glasses, were locked on him.   
     She strode over to their table. Her brow furrowed, she glanced between them almost like the waitress had.   
     “What…is this…exactly?” She asked, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward slightly, towering over them. Winter looked guilty, pointedly keeping her gaze away from her teammate.   
     “An infiltration,” he offered, “Welcome aboard, I’m—“  
     “I know exactly who you are,” Darya cut him off, raising her eyebrows in a way that made him think she knew some incredibly personal details about him. She turned to glare at Winter.   
     “It’s just a mission,” she assured her, but Darya wasn’t having any of it.   
     “So, you guys have this weird, one-night stand that accidentally went on for like, four years now, and I’m just supposed to gloss over it?” She asked.   
     Winter still looked guilty, but she was smirking at Darya now, “That would have been ideal, yes.”  
     “Will called me, Winter,” she replied, “He’s distraught, what happened?”   
     Her smirk evaporated. As Qrow watched her face fall, he felt a familiar aching in his chest.   
     “Things are…not great,” she said slowly, and Qrow let out a short snort of laughter.   
     When Darya’s head spun around to direct her glare at him, he explained, “She’s downplaying that quite a bit.”  
     Winter sighed, and relayed her conversation with Will. Slowly Darya softened, her glare falling into a gape of surprise. Eventually, she sat down next to Winter and placed a metal hand on her shoulder. During her explanation, Winter completely passed over their conversation in the rain. In his most private thoughts, Qrow was willing to admit that that made him happy. Those moments belonged to them, and only them.   
     “I owe you both an apology,” Darya said, breaking the silence that hung in the air following Winter’s story. First, she looked at Qrow across the table, “I didn’t want to see my friend get hurt. I had always assumed it would be you again.”   
While Qrow was still processing that thought, she fully turned her body to face Winter. Darya’s voice was low, but he heard the words anyway. “I’m so sorry, Winter. I—can’t believe it. I swear I never knew, I had no idea…I never would have introduced you if I had known he was hiding something like that,” she said.   
     Winter’s face lit up slightly. She had figured something out. “You wear glasses,” she said, with only a hint of satisfaction.   
     “What?”  
     “You wear glasses,” she repeated, “Will needs completely unbroken eye contact to use his semblance. That’s why you never suspected—he was probably never able to use it on you.” She paused, then added, glancing at Qrow, “But it didn’t seem to be working on you either.”  
     Qrow smiled at the memory. He had wanted to beat the living shit out of Will for lying to Winter, but the most he could do in that moment was frustrate him. “It’s hard to do that kind of thing to someone when they know about it,” he explained, “You can feel things and still recognize that they’re not real.” An uncomfortable silence followed in which none of the three really wanted to look at one another.   
     Trying to find a way out, Darya turned her attention to the gun still on the table. “Is this why you called me here?” She asked. She picked it up and examined it carefully. “I have to say, I’m a bit underwhelmed.” While they watched she pulled a screwdriver bit from her uniform pocket, magnetically attached it to her prosthetic index finger, and tightened a few screws on the case. “This one needs some maintenance, but that’s not really my department.” Qrow was still impressed with what he had just seen, so it was Winter who glanced around and said,   
     “I’ll tell you everything, but first, we have to get out of here.”  
     After they finished their food, she led them to a Stealth department safe house nearby. Darya helped them sweep for bugs using the metal detector function on her mechanical arm. When they were finished, Winter sat down at the small kitchen table across from Darya, her face deadly serious.   
     “You should know,” she began, choosing her words very carefully, “That you don’t have to do this.” She hesitated, and Darya looked confused. “It’s not an authorized mission. No one knows about it, even General Ironwood.”  
She was struck with disbelief. “Why in the world are you doing it, then? And what does it have to do with this?” She gestured to the gun, which was on the table between them.   
     Winter hesitated again, so Qrow stepped in to answer. “When she got mugged three months ago, it wasn’t some random assholes,” he began, “It was White Fang assholes. There’s four of them that have infiltrated the Atlas military, and that,” he slid the sketch next to the gun on the table, “Tells us that they’ve infiltrated your department.”  
She looked to Winter for confirmation. “One of them had that gun—three months ago, when it was still a prototype.”   
     It was though a dark cloud passed over Darya’s face. Qrow recognized that her expression of barely-contained fury was reminiscent of Winter’s.   
     She stood up suddenly and said, “Alright, I want in. It’s personal now. I—“ she put a hand to her forehead, “I blamed the weekend shift interns for the equipment that’s been disappearing. I feel like an ass,” she sighed.  
     “We’ll make this right,” Winter promised her. Then she smirked, saying, “You know, since you’re in uniform, you have to put your hair up.”  
     Darya scoffed, but obliged. Qrow took the gun and slid it back inside his jacket.   
     “Time for an infiltration,” he said gravely.  
\---   
     When their plan was complete, they made their way toward the Atlas military complex. Darya read the file while they walked. “I know him—“ she whispered furiously, pointing a finger to one of their targets, a wolf Faunus with large fluffy ears. “I’ve seen him around, he’s friends with one of our interns. I bet they’ve been using that badge to get in and no one bothered to check,” she huffed. A few curls had already fallen out of her large blue bun, which underscored how flustered she looked.   
     Winter, on the other hand, was positively icy. She had that spark in her eye that meant she had cast off all emotions and focused wholly on her prey. Qrow sped up to walk beside her, leaving Darya a few paces behind to read the file.   
     “Are you…okay?” He asked.   
     “No,” she responded, with just a hint of levity in her voice, “Absolutely not.”   
     Words popped into Qrow’s mind without warning, but he shoved them back down before he said something that he couldn’t take back.   
     “Thank you,” she said again, and she seemed to be letting some warmth come through, “You were the only one who believed in me.”  
     “For the record,” Qrow said, wanting to take advantage of the fact she was letting him in, “I told Ironwood not to deny your transfer request.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake.   
     “You talked to Ironwood about me?” She asked, immediately suspicious. He changed the subject as quickly as he could. He stopped walking until Darya came up beside him, still reading the file.   
     “Are you armed?” He asked Darya. Much to his surprise, the two women stopped, stared at him for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Winter was nearly doubled over, laughing harder than Qrow had heard her in a long time.   
     As Darya wiped away a tear, she said, “Yes, I am. Quite literally,” which only made them laugh harder. She rolled up her sleeve to reveal the rest of her mechanical arm. “You’re looking at the most advanced piece of military technology in Atlas, and probably all of Remnant.” As she closed her fist, sparks of pure electricity radiated from it.   
     “I see that,” Qrow blinked, and they continued moving toward the military complex.   
     They weren’t breaking in, not really. Only Qrow was wearing a uniform that didn’t belong to him. Just like before, he hated the way he looked in it, the way he felt. But it brought his mind back to Winter’s promotion ceremony, and more so, the night that followed. He didn’t mind the uniform so much when he recalled the way she had ripped it off of him. As if she knew what he was thinking about, she turned her head and gave him a sly grin. She liked the way he looked in it, and that was enough for him.   
     As they arrived at the military complex, he heard Winter take a deep breath. He wanted to tease her about being pretty high strung for a Stealth agent, but there would be no banter between them for a while. Qrow went through the security checkpoint first. His badge came up clean, as he knew it would. Winter and Darya, ever professionals, showed no signs of relief or surprise.   
     The air between the three of them changed completely after they passed through the checkpoint. Now, they had a plan. As Darya had explained, the White Fang infiltrators had probably been stealing equipment through the freight elevator, in order to avoid the guards at the main door.   
     They slipped into the service hallway of the Technology Development building after Winter picked the lock. “Usually only janitorial staff and delivery people have access to this,” Darya explained, looking around. She led them through the maze of hallways, guessing based on what she knew about the building layout. They arrived at the freight elevator to find that someone was already there.   
     Qrow had already drawn his weapon and taken a defensive stance when he heard Winter say, “Nalim? What in the world are you doing here?”  
     The other intruder was a young man with light brown skin and a medium build. He had dark green hair and lighter bangs that fell effortlessly onto his forehead. He was also in uniform, and he had been examining something on his scroll. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, looking between Winter and Darya.   
     “Well I work here,” Darya explained, “I mean, obviously not here here. But in this building, at least. Nice to see you too, by the way.”   
     Nalim shrugged and laughed. “It is nice to see you two, it’s been too long. Just not…in these circumstances.”   
     “What do you mean?”  
     “I…don’t normally work weekends,” he began, “So when I saw something weird I thought it was nothing. But I was bored, so I started digging and…I think there’s been some kind of…security compromise.”  
     “You mean, an infiltration?” Qrow offered, and Winter elbowed him in the ribs with surprising swiftness and force. “Oof,” was the sound that came out his mouth involuntarily.   
     “Um, I suppose so,” Nalim’s eyes lingered on Qrow for the first time. “But it just seems like some kids snooping around where they’re not supposed to be.”  
     Winter balked, and Darya rushed towards him. “Come on, everyone into the elevator,” she whispered urgently under her breath. She shoved Nalim into the doors of the freight elevator as they opened. Qrow was amused by the fact that he posed no resistance, letting Darya do whatever it was she was so bent on doing. He seemed to be used to it. Qrow and Winter followed them into the elevator. Even out of the corner of his eye he could see and feel her becoming stiffer beside him. She was approaching their targets. They were here.   
     “No cameras,” Darya breathed as the doors closed.   
     “There are intruders in Technology Development?” Winter asked Nalim, with considerable force in her voice.   
     “Well, yes,” he replied, his eyebrows raised, “Besides us, I mean.”   
     Qrow chuckled, and Nalim looked back at him again. Winter seemed to snap out of her tunnel vision. She cleared her throat and said, “This is Nalim Tamboli, former member of Team DAWN. He was actually my partner.” When they both smiled, Qrow could see that part of his smile had become hers, or vice versa. For just a moment, Qrow’s heart ached for his team and most of all, his partner.   
     “Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking Nalim’s hand.   
     “This is…” Winter began, but trailed off.   
     “Qrow. Qrow Branwen,” he finished for her. If this was all going to blow up in their faces, using a fake name wasn’t going to save him any trouble. “I’m…a professor at Signal Academy.”   
Nalim seemed to find this explanation insufficient, and not without good reason. But there were more pressing matters at hand. “So which one of you is going to tell me what the hell is going on?”  
     Winter stepped forward. “Nalim, I’m sorry,” she sighed, “Darya got a choice whether or not she got dragged into this mess. You just went digging and…well. There are four intruders down there, right?” He nodded. “All Faunus?” She asked.   
     “Actually, yes…”  
     She grabbed the file from Darya’s hand and pulled out a security photo of the four of them. He nodded again. Darya paled. She laughed nervously and said, “I guess I was still kinda hoping it wasn’t true.”  
     “Are you armed?” Qrow asked again.   
     This time Nalim only gave him a soft, “Yes,” and no one laughed.   
     “We’d better move before they realize we’re here,” Winter said, taking a deep breath. Nalim unclipped and extended a double edged polearm, Darya rolled up her left sleeve, and Qrow and Winter readied their swords. As they descended to the bottom floor, where storage was kept, there was no sound except for the grinding of the freight elevator and their breathing.   
     As much as Qrow hated to admit it, he was excited. He had been internalizing a lot of frustration lately, and he was ready to let it out on someone who deserved it. The elevator doors opened, and they immediately spotted the other group of four in the center of the room, loading weapons into a large metal box on a cart. They looked up as the elevator dinged, but seemed completely unfazed by the four agents that were standing in it.   
     The deer Faunus stopped working. “Can I help you?” He asked coolly, while the other three continued to load weapons into the box. The four in the elevator were frozen. Only Nalim stepped forward.   
     With his polearm still extended, he used his other hand to remove his badge from his belt and show it to the deer Faunus. “I’m from Internal Security, may I see your badges?”  
     This time, the other three stopped working. They all turned to the deer Faunus. He stared at Nalim for a moment, appearing to make some internal calculations. Instead of pulling out his badge, he drew a gun, pointing it directly at Nalim.   
     “Watch out!” Darya cried from behind him, “That’s a—“  
     But it was too late. The gun fired some kind of laser blast—it made a loud bang and produced a huge amount of smoke when it collided with Nalim. When it cleared a moment later, Qrow saw that he had produced a laser shield from his polearm, but it was untouched. What had absorbed the blast was a huge, glowing white glyph that had shielded all four of them. Qrow smiled to himself. She really knew how to make an entrance.   
     Nalim was the first to strike. The deer Faunus was on his knees, knocked to the ground by his own blast. Clearly he had not known what the weapon would do. Nalim knocked him backwards with the blunt side of his polearm, then spun it deftly in his hands and sliced his uniform with it. If the intruder hadn’t managed to scoot back a moment earlier, he would have sliced into his collarbone instead.   
     The glyph shattered as Winter rushed through it. The dog Faunus leapt to meet her, to defend his leader, and they began trading blows. Darya engaged the wolf Faunus, presumably for some kind of revenge. That left Qrow with the cat Faunus, whose tail was twitching back and forth anxiously. She shoved the cart forward, blocking his path to reach her.   
     “Nice try, kitty,” he said. With his sword in one hand, he jumped on top of the cart. His knees groaned at the effort. He was getting too old for this nonsense. She was crouched down nearby, trying to find a hiding place. With the press of a button he transformed his weapon into a gun. “Easy,” he whispered to himself.   
     Through the clashing of swords, the bangs from firearms and the crashing of equipment, Qrow heard the unmistakable sound of Winter crying out in pain. Something inside him overrode his Hunter instincts and he turned his head, rapidly glancing around the room in search of her. His opponent took advantage of his hesitation. Out of the corner of his eye Qrow saw the glint of something small and metal being thrown at him. As soon as he saw it, he felt it connect.   
     Intense pain radiated from the upper part of his shoulder, near the base of his neck. A tiny blade was sticking out of his flesh, he could just barely see it. It hurt, but not as much as it would in a moment. “God—dammit—asshole,” he said as he pulled it out. There was a fair amount of blood on it as he tossed it to the ground, but he tried not to think about it right now. He took aim again, but through his sights he could see the cat Faunus leaping directly at him.  
     Qrow reacted instantly, his instincts taking over. He turned his sword to block, and felt it pushed back as her feet collided with it. As she flew backwards, she tried to throw another small blade at him, but he was ready for it this time. He knocked it away, and it clattered to the floor.   
     A sound rang out through the room, and it distracted both Qrow and his opponent this time. It was a cackling, maniacal laugh, followed by the distinctive buzz of electricity. Across the room, Darya tossed a metal baseball bat from hand to hand, looking menacingly at the wolf Faunus. She laughed again and said, “I knew this thing would come in handy sometime.”   
She stopped tossing it, letting it rest in her metal hand. The dark cloud took over her face once more, and as they watched electricity crackled down her arm and through the bat. “If you’re going to wreck my lab, I’m going to wreck you,” she said gravely.   
     Qrow’s eyes immediately found Winter. She was only fighting with one hand. The other, he noticed with a pang of dread, was clutching at a wound on the lower part of her torso. She glanced at him for only a second before taking advantage of the moment of confusion.   
     A glyph appeared in front of her, and from it emerged lights like missiles that targeted the dog Faunus from all sides. Something about the lights made Qrow dizzy. He shook his head vigorously and returned to the fight.   
     He had given up on the idea of trying to shoot his opponent. Instead, he entered melee range, trying to make contact with his sword. She wasn’t well equipped to fight back, but she was fast. Her goal seemed to be escape, but Qrow wasn’t going to let that happen. He got his opportunity a moment later. A loud, watery cry of pain came from the dog Faunus as Winter’s rapier found its target. She had carefully avoided vital organs—he would not die today, but it would be a long time before he fought again, if ever. The cat Faunus balked as her teammate fell, and Qrow swiftly knocked her out.   
     When he stood up and brushed himself off, examining the rest of the scene before him, a body whizzed just past him and collided with the wall behind. It was Darya’s opponent, the wolf Faunus. He was conscious, but wholly incapacitated. Darya herself was bloodied from a few pieces of broken glass lodged in her face, and she was leaning on a desk to avoid putting weight on what looked like a broken leg. But she looked triumphant nonetheless.   
     Behind her was Winter. When Qrow looked at her, a haze fell over his brain, as if what he was seeing wasn’t actually happening. She was on her knees, doubled over not far from where the wolf Faunus lay. It hadn’t been too long ago that she had been doubled over in laughter. But this time, she was clutching a wound. He stumbled over, nearly falling down beside her. He felt drunk, as though he had lost pints of blood, even though he hadn’t.   
     His mouth couldn’t quite form words, but Qrow followed where her eyes were locked. Nalim had apprehended the deer Faunus, the group’s presumed leader. He was on his knees, with his wrists bound behind his back. Nalim was holding him by his hair, forcing him to face the others.   
     Everyone turned to Winter. “This is all you,” Darya said softly. Winter suppressed a groan of pain as she stood, holding her bloody rapier with her own bloody hand. She took a few steps over towards the deer Faunus. He was panting and baring his teeth at her, his eyes wild.   
     “Remember me?” She asked, her voice deadly cold. She wiped the blood and makeup off of her face to reveal her scar.   
The deer Faunus gave a haggard laugh. He spit blood onto the floor near her feet. “How could anyone forget an encounter with a Schnee? Especially one like ours,” he said, with a tone bordering on madness. “Imagine my excitement when you gave us the opportunity to finish the job.”   
     Winter swiftly moved her sword to rest the tip just barely brushing his throat. “But you didn’t,” she said coldly, “It’s over.”  
     The deer Faunus laughed again, even more crazed this time. “Kill me if you’d like, Miss Dust Princess. If it helps you sleep at night. But it’s not over, not even close. The four of us, we’re heroes. Because of us and what we’ve done, the White Fang will rise like you’ve never seen before. And then there will be no more Schnees to subsidize our oppression. Kill me if you want,” he said, tilting his head back to bare his throat to her, “Just know that it changes nothing.”  
     Winter stood there for a long moment, silent, icy. The tip of her rapier rested on his throat all the while. She nodded very slightly, then her sword cut through the air in one swift motion. When she brought it back down to her side, Qrow realized that she hadn’t killed him. Instead, she had given him a wound across his face, just like hers.   
     “I cannot speak for my father,” she whispered, “But I am not the monster you believe me to be.”  
     “That’s a shame,” the Faunus growled through gritted teeth. Quite suddenly he stood up, knocking Nalim over, and kicked something metal towards the four of them. “Freedom! At any cost!” He shouted, and it was punctuated by an explosion.   
     The smoke cleared only a few moments later, but Qrow felt like it might have been a few hours. He could barely think straight now. It felt as though he was watching everything happen from the other end of a long, dark tunnel. There was coughing. Was he coughing? He couldn’t tell. “It was just a smoke bomb, but he got away,” he heard Darya say. He heard Winter swear profusely, at herself and everything she could think of. Then, she turned to him.   
     “Qrow! Qrow, what happened?” She was kneeling down beside him. Was he laying on the ground now? He didn’t remember how he had gotten there.   
     Darya gasped, and he felt fingers near the wound on his neck. “He must have been hit with one of those tiny projectiles, they’re coated in an awful poison. I’ll get help,” she said, and then Qrow heard footsteps as she hurried away.   
     He blinked, and suddenly his head was resting in Winter’s lap. He could feel her stroking his cheek, and watched as a tear rolled down her face and dropped onto his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have—this is all my fault, I’m so so sorry.”  
     Qrow was holding onto the last shreds of consciousness. “It’s okay,” he breathed, and it was. With his body weaker than ever, he could no longer hold back the words that had been burning in his mind. He heard himself say them as he finally passed out.   
     “I love you, Ice Queen.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I was really excited to post it! I'm starting to build up a decent buffer again, so I think next week you'll see another! Next one will be Chapter 18: Consequences, Part I! :)
> 
> Thanks again for all your continued support!


	18. Consequences, Part I

            Winter lost consciousness before help arrived. She rested her head on Qrow’s chest, like she had so many times before. But this time, she was listening for his heartbeat. She drifted off listening to its comforting rhythm, which assured her that for now, they were both alive. She was still out when they returned, but she knew exactly how they found the two of them. Her head was on his chest, her fingers laced in his. Maybe there were still tears streaming down her face.

            She woke up in the hospital. Someone was holding her hand that she did not recognize—a nurse. They were moving through a hallway on a stretcher. “You’re going into surgery,” she explained, “There’s been damage to some of your organs, but you’re going to be alright.” Winter heard another nurse flip a loud switch, and a moment later something cold rushed through her veins.

            What seemed like only another second later, she opened her eyes in a cold hospital bed. For a few seconds she thought her family might have been there, but as her mind cleared she realized she was alone. She still couldn’t quite control her thoughts, and Qrow’s words floated in and out of her mind without warning.

            “I love you, Ice Queen.”

            Winter was hyper focused on what he had said, as if she could analyze them to discover some kind of hidden meaning. But there was no hidden meaning at all, only desperate, raw truth.

            In the moment, she hadn’t said anything back. And really, it didn’t matter if she had or not. Qrow had said it right before he passed out, so he hadn’t exactly been expecting a reply. And that was just as well. Even now, left alone with nothing else to do but think, Winter still couldn’t manage to untangle her thoughts and feelings into words that made sense.

            Not too long after she woke up, Darya came to visit. Winter gasped when she saw her determinedly rolling herself into her room in a wheelchair.

            “Your leg—what happened?” She asked.

            “They had to amputate it,” Darya replied gravely. When Winter’s mouth fell open, she laughed. “Just kidding, it’s just broken. Which is almost worse, I’ve been brainstorming all the things I could do with a mechanical leg.”

            Winter let out a sigh of relief, and laughed a little too, but it hurt.

            Darya’s face turned downwards into a concerned frown. “Are you…okay? Everything back where it’s supposed to be?”

            “I…think so,” she said slowly. She felt around from above her hospital gown, and she could feel the stitches on her abdomen where the wound had been. “How is Qrow—is he okay?”

            “He’s stable, but that poison messed him up pretty bad,” she said, “Apparently he’s got a pretty strong aura, the doctor said he wouldn’t have made it otherwise.” Darya hesitated for a long time, then said, “Nalim told me what Qrow said—what happened. Are you…okay?” she asked again.

            “I…really don’t know,” Winter replied. Something somehow pulled her mind back to the marriage conversation she had had with her mother years ago. She hadn’t loved Qrow back then, but she had felt _something_. Somewhere deep inside, she had known even then that walking down that path would lead them here. Tears leaked from her eyes. Her thoughts made their way into words that tumbled out of her mouth. “If this is love…I don’t know if I want it. God, it hurts so much.”

            Darya didn’t seem to know what to say, so she rolled up to Winter’s bed and held her hand. After a long silence, she said, “You know, your family was here, while you were asleep. Your mom and Weiss came to visit me.” Winter smiled meekly. Knowing that her family had come to visit made her feel a little better, but it was nothing compared to the aching in her chest.

            Darya seemed to be struggling to say something. It came out choppy and stilted compared to the melodic way she normally talked. “I—someone else came to visit me too. My boss, Rose Miller. She brought flowers from the rest of Technology Development—and a card where they all wrote how shitty they feel about letting this happen in our department. There was even a balloon, too, but—“ she paused, then choked the rest of the words out, “Rose told me she had gotten an order to let me go—for insubordination. All the way from the top. Honorable discharge and all that, but still…” A tear escaped from her eye, and Winter’s heart sank.

            “Darya, I’m so so sorry, this is all my fault, I—“

            She cut her off with a single raised finger. “Oh, hush, don’t be ridiculous, I knew the risks. None of us blame you. Even Nalim is fine—he got let go too, unfortunately. He said he would have ended up there himself either way, but without us, without _you,_ he wouldn’t have made it out alive,” Darya assured her, “Anyway, Nalim and I were talking. We did good work while we were in the military, but nothing beats kicking ass and stopping bad guys. Since combat school, it’s what we were built to do. We’re going to track down Ash and start taking missions together again, just like we used to. You know, you could come with us.”

            Winter thought long and hard, still holding Darya’s hand. Her time with Team DAWN had been the best years of her life, there was no doubt about that. But it felt like another lifetime that had been lived by a person other than her.

            She shook her head and said, “I’m sorry. If I still have a job after all of this, I have to hold my head high. I gave my word that I would serve Atlas. I—I won’t let the White Fang scare me or bully me out of my job. I have to prove to them and the rest of the world that the Schnees are still worthy of respect.”

            “If you say so,” Darya replied, “Just remember…it’s not your job to do that. You can dye your hair and be anyone you want to be.” For just a moment, she reminded Winter of Qrow—the part of him that she liked, anyway.

            “Speaking of your hair,” she said, reaching up to touch it affectionately, “We have to do something about this, you don’t look like yourself.” She hoisted herself up to sit next to Winter on the bed, propping up her right leg, which was in a cast. There, she fixed Winter’s hair. It was comforting.

            First, Darya put her hair up into a long ponytail. “Ah, this is the Winter I remember,” she said, showing Winter her reflection in the mirror. Then she took it back out, and braided it off to the side instead. “Remember when we were first years, and you used to wear your hair in a braid? It always got in your way, though.”

            Winter chuckled at the memory. “Remember when you had to stop me from cutting it all off? I was so mad, I had the scissors right there and I was going to do it,” she said.

            Darya laughed too. “I still wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped you. I still think you could rock any haircut you wanted to.” Finally, she unbraided Winter’s hair and gracefully fixed it into the bun that she had come to wear so frequently. “And this is Winter once the Atlas military got to her.” Her tone was joking and she clearly meant no harm by it, but as Winter stared at her reflection, she felt an awful longing that she could not quite place.

            She and Darya leaned back on the stack of pillows behind them, whispering about their treasured memories and fears of the future until they both drifted off to sleep.

            A firm voice woke them up. “Lieutenant Coronel Schnee, Ms. Balik.”

            Darya, who was normally a heavy sleeper, was startled. As Winter’s eyes shot open she heard Darya groan as she collided with the hospital floor. General Ironwood rushed from the doorway to help her up and into her wheelchair.

            “I hope you are healing well, Ms. Balik,” was all he said to her, and it ticked Winter off a bit. Darya seemed to sense that he wanted to speak to Winter alone, so she wheeled back out of the room with nothing more than a nod.

            The two of them sat in uncomfortable silence for a long time. Winter had a lot of things she wanted to say, but felt that Ironwood should be the one to initiate the conversation. He sat in a hard-backed chair, hands folded in his lap. Inside, she was thankful that Darya had put her hair in a bun. She stared back at him, blinking far too often.

            Finally, he spoke, and it was not at all what she expected.

            “Surely you understand the position I’m in here,” he said, unfolding his hands and placing them on his knees. Winter’s head was spinning.

            “I’m…not sure I do,” she said shakily. Her mind was running a mile a minute, desperately trying to make the connections that he very obviously wanted her to make. She followed a few different logical paths to various conclusions, but most of the, didn’t involve her keeping her job. She was so gripped with terror that she wasn’t ready for what happened next.

            Ironwood sighed. “It’s not as though this was an isolated incident,” he said, and she was thoroughly confused. How was it _not_ an isolated incident? “I’ve had reason to question your judgement for the last few months already, and I was a fool to disregard it.”

            Winter tried to physically back up from his words. A wave of intense pain radiated from her abdomen. She was bent over, clutching it, as she had when she had first been wounded. With her other hand, she pressed the button to call the nurse. She forced words out through teeth gritted in pain, “I beg your pardon, sir—?”

            He sighed again, which was starting to irritate her. He was acting as though he were disciplining an unruly child. “A few months ago, Qrow Branwen spoke to me about your…history,” he said slowly, and Winter’s stomach dropped. The pain intensified, making her feel lightheaded. What were the chances that this was some kind of awful medication dream? She didn’t want to accept that Ironwood knew about her and Qrow at all, let alone that he had known for months.

            The nurse returned, and gave her an extra dose of pain medication. The pain began to subside, but the feeling of dread in her stomach remained.

            “I did not investigate your personal life,” he continued, “In fact, I must commend you for successfully hiding such a thing from myself and your other superior officers. That takes a great measure of skill. But unfortunately for you, Qrow volunteered the information unprompted. He was…extremely drunk. As far as I could tell, he did it to get some kind of revenge on you.”

            He smiled in a way that made Winter deeply uncomfortable. “I would be remiss if I didn’t commend you for that as well. It’s been many, many years since someone affected him as deeply as you do,” he said. It threw her back into all the things she had felt when Qrow told her he loved her. But it was tinged with rage now. She had pushed him away in the past, but he had revealed their secret to Ironwood with the sole intention of hurting her.

            “Unfortunately, that is as far as my praise goes,” he said, and the strange smile faded. “A single slip-up I can condone. I was once a young agent myself. But you, Schnee, you knew better, all along. I don’t know what you see in him, but it should have ended a long time ago. Especially considering…Mr. Caldwell.”

            Winter hung her head in shame. She wanted to explain to Ironwood that she hadn’t been having an affair with Qrow, but she knew it didn’t matter. She wanted to evaporate, to get stabbed again, anything that would stop this conversation from proceeding.

            “That alone would have justified your termination,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “As I said before, I made a misstep in judgement when I chose to ignore it. But what happened in Technology Development cannot be ignored.”

            Winter nodded. She saw no way out of this now. She felt tears stinging at the edges of her eyes. Consciously she had been prepared for the consequences of their unauthorized mission, but now they had arrived it felt overwhelming.

            “On the surface, you and your two colleagues made the right choices at the right time,” Ironwood admitted. It seemed nearly painful for him to do so. “But that doesn’t change that fact that you acted without authorization, and without following proper procedures. When you first had suspicions, you should have filed a report, then there would have been an inquiry, then an investigation if necessary.”

            Winter gaped at him now, in spite of how unprofessional it seemed. Ironwood had no idea that it was Ozpin who had brought her into the loop. She had been thrown under the bus. She bit her tongue though, realizing that it was not worth revealing that Vale’s spymaster had orchestrated an investigation and infiltration right under Ironwood’s nose. It could damage relations between him and Ozpin irreparably, and there was no guarantee it would save her skin anyway.

            “You were right this time,” he continued, “But I have to act as though you weren’t.”

            “Well that doesn’t seem fair,” a voice came from the doorway. Even though she knew it couldn’t possibly be him, her heart skipped a beat when she thought it was Qrow. Instead, it was Ozpin who leaned against the wall, his arms folded.

            “What’s _fair_ is adhering to predetermined policies and objective decisions,” Ironwood replied through clenched teeth.

            “Then,” Ozpin said, striding over to take a seat next to him, “If that is what you consider to be fair, let us consider instead what is…practical.”

            “Alright,” Ironwood said, his voice still strained, “What is _practical_?”

            “Protecting the image of one’s organization comes to mind for me, personally,” he mused, “The story of what happened in Technology Development has been contained, but it won’t stay that way forever.”

            Ironwood narrowed his eyes. Winter wasn’t sure where Ozpin was going with this, but he seemed to be defending her somehow.

            “With Lieutenant Coronel Schnee forcefully disconnected from the military, she has no obligation to corroborate the…convenient half-truths that may make their way into the public’s ears. The same may be true of Ms. Balik and Mr. Tamboli, but their voices don’t carry quite as effectively as a Schnee’s,” Ozpin said, and Winter saw a vein pulsating in Ironwood’s forehead. Ozpin turned directly to her. He had a spark in his eye as he said, “Lieutenant Coronel Schnee proved to us all yesterday that she has a remarkable investment in seeing justice done, even at the risk of her own personal safety. It is a shame that you intend to punish that.”

            Ironwood seemed to be grinding his teeth now. “’Remarkable investment in justice’ aside, I don’t appreciate being told how to run my military, Ozpin.” But he hesitated for a long time, and Winter was filled with cautious relief. “That being said, your point is valid. I…will revisit your transfer request, Lieutenant Coronel. If you are to remain under my command, you must now always be where I can keep an eye on you. I want to be very clear though, this is not a reward. You seriously mishandled sensitive information in this incident, and that will not be forgotten. This is the kind of mistake that ends careers. It will follow you for the rest of yours, which seems mild by comparison.”

            Winter nodded. Too much had happened since she had woken up, and she was starting to feel numb. Ironwood seemed to sense this, and stood up to leave. He turned around, and then stopped and turned back, deciding to say something at the last minute.

            “I think…also, if you are to remain under my command, you should,” he paused, choosing his words, “consider that fact when…making personal decisions.”

            Winter thought she understood, but she had to be sure. “I’m sorry sir…what are you asking me, exactly?”

            He offered a grim smile. “I’m asking you to make a mature, professional decision. I sincerely hope Qrow’s influence hasn’t rendered you incapable of doing so. Best wishes in your recovery, Lieutenant Coronel.”

            Ozpin stood up to leave as well. “Another meeting in unfortunate circumstances,” he sighed, “Let us pray they don’t continue to increase in severity.” He wished her well too, then left. Winter wanted Darya, the nurse, someone, anyone so that she didn’t have to be alone. Luckily, not too long after her two visitors left, she fell asleep.

            It was evening when Winter awoke. Outside her window the sun had just set, and the last swaths of fiery color were fading to blueish black. A nurse brought her a plate of food—pretty decent-looking, for a hospital—but Winter couldn’t bring herself to eat any. The nurse explained that her pain medication would dull her appetite, and her body wouldn’t be able to user her aura to heal until she replenished it. It was more than that, though. Everything that had happened since her surgery left her stomach in knots. Darya had been fired, and Winter herself had barely managed to escape the same fate. Only though Ozpin’s grace (or more so, perhaps, his cleverness) had she come out unscathed.

            But worst of all, by far, was finding out that Qrow had revealed the truth to Ironwood. Apparently that alone had almost ended her career. She had known that it could, from the first time they woke up together, but it hadn’t truly hit her until the words came out of Ironwood’s mouth. She supposed she had thought too highly of herself—she was too clever, too professional, too ambitious to get caught. But she was wrong.

            The path before her was clearer than ever. Whatever thoughts she may have had about leaving Will and chasing an imaginary future with Qrow were gone. It had been nice to indulge her fantasies for a moment, but that moment was over. Her fear that it would ruin her career (and her life) had been wholly validated by Ironwood. She was choosing the life she still had, although it didn’t feel like much of a choice at all.

            Winter had managed to choke down a few bites of food when her third visitor arrived. It was Will. She noticed right away that he looked different, somehow. Something about him had changed radically in the last couple days. Or maybe, Winter realized, she had changed.

            Will sat down in the same hard-backed chair that Ironwood had occupied earlier. His face looked crumpled, and he wouldn’t make eye contact with her. To Winter’s relief, he was wearing glasses. When she looked at him, she was filled with longing. She wasn’t sure what had been real and what had been contrived by Will’s semblance, but what she knew was that everything else in her life had fallen apart. She waited with bated breath, hoping that he would stand up and lay beside her in bed until she fell asleep. He was the last thing that made sense. But he only sat in the hard-backed chair, staring at the floor, and Winter’s sense of dread grew with each passing moment.

            Finally, Will looked up at her. He was resting his forearms on his knees, and his hands were folded together. For the first time, his blue eyes looked cold.

            “I figured it out,” he sighed.

            Winter felt her heart rate speed up. “What?”

            “I think we both know,” he said coldly, and it struck her how much he reminded Winter of her father. “I knew something was up a long time ago, but I got the last missing piece today.”

            “No, wait, you don’t understand—“ she stuttered. She recognized this feeling from being in the field. She had gotten herself into a situation she couldn’t handle. She was completely overwhelmed, and her mind was on the fritz. “I don’t know what Ironwood said to you, but I wasn’t having an affair with him, I swear I never—“

            “Ironwood?” Will asked, puzzled. His brow was furrowed. Winter reached up to run her fingers through her hair, a sure sign that she was panicking. Her injury and the lack of food rendered her incapable of properly handling this situation. She felt oddly removed from it, as though it was some kind of nightmare. That’s what it was, really. Her worst nightmare brought to life before her very eyes. “How is Ironwood involved?”

            Winter looked around the room as if searching for a way to physically escape the conversation. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” he said, “I knew you were hiding something from me, I’ve known that for a while. A few months back I asked Darya about the Education Summit back in Vale, only because someone brought it up at lunch, and she started getting uncomfortable. And then I found out you were _there_ , and you never mentioned it. I tried to talk to Darya about it, but I couldn’t—“

            “You couldn’t force it out of her with your semblance,” Winter interjected, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. Will’s face soured. Even when they had fought before, there had never been the resentment that passed between them now.

            “What happened at the Education Summit?” He asked, narrowing his eyes back at her. She broke the gaze, looking at her lap instead.

            “Why does it matter to you?” She asked, softer, “It was before we were together, it’s in the past.”

            Will seemed to have anticipated this answer. “Is it? _Really?_ Because after you left I found this in your desk drawer,” he said, pulling something out of his jacket pocket. Winter didn’t have to look. She knew what it was. She had memorized every inch of that paper, every drop of ink and gentle fold. _I’ll be thinking of you._

            “It’s nothing,” she said flatly, though it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

            “It’s not,” Will replied, with a tone like he was barely restraining himself, “You can lie to me all you want now, like you did back then, but—“ His anger fell for a moment. For the first time, he looked heartbroken. “But I saw the way you looked at him.”

            Winter’s face fell as well. “How…did you find out, then? What was the missing piece?” she asked, but as the words left her mouth she knew.

            “Nalim,” Will answered shortly. “He didn’t want to tell me at first, but—“

            “But you forced him to tell you,” she shot back.

            “I coerced him,” he replied, “In the name of honesty.”

            “That’s disgusting,” she said, her voice a quiet and furious hiss.

            “You’re no different!” Will shouted, raising his voice for the first time in a very, very long time. Winter had never seen him this angry. “You think you’re better than me because you’re not using your semblance, but you hide behind your friends so you can have some kind of—some kind of _backup plan_ in case things don’t work out with me. You’ve been just as dishonest, since day one.”

            Winter shouted now too. “Hiding things from you about my past is _not_ the same as what you did. All those things I wasn’t sure about, like saying I loved you, moving in with you, meeting my parents,” her head was spinning now, trying to separate her real feelings from the artificial ones, “You _forced_ me to be sure. That is not the same.”

            Will narrowed his eyes and said, “So, if my semblance is the only reason we’re still together, I think that settles it, then.”

            Everything changed in an instant. The longing Winter had felt in her chest grew into fiery desperation to hold onto the last thing in her life she could count on. “No, wait, please,” she said, trying to move to get out of bed but struggling, “I don’t want that, I—“

            “You really want to work this out?” Will asked, raising his eyebrows.

            “Yes,” she pleaded.

            “I’m sorry, I don’t,” He said flatly, standing up to leave. “By the time you’re out, I’ll have your things moved to the safe house.”

            Winter was in full blown panic. She believed that if she tried hard enough, she could convince him to stay. She put her feet on the ground, but when she tried to stand, her legs gave way and she fell to her knees.

            “Please, Will,” she cried, tears streaming down her face, “I—I—you’re the only chance I have at the life I want.”

            In the middle of walking away, Will turned around. When she saw the look on his face, she realized that what she hadn’t said was most telling of all. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said. When he reached the doorway, he turned around once more. Finally, Winter realized that it was over, and these were the last words that would ever pass between them.

            “I heard he calls you Ice Queen. I think it’s fitting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! My challenge was to explain why Winter is the way she is in canon: young, allegedly very important, but not trusted with any important information. 
> 
> I'm hoping to keep up the weekly posting schedule again, so send me some good vibes! (and some comments! ;)) Next up (naturally) is Chapter 19: Consequences, Part II


	19. Consequences, Part II

            Qrow fell asleep in Winter’s arms. Or, more accurately, he passed out in her arms. He had been knocked unconscious in battle before, but for the first time, he wondered if he was dying. If he was, at least he had told her the truth.

            To his surprise, he woke up for a while in a hospital in Atlas. Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire. Qrow recognized it as the cleansing heat of his aura. At last, he was able to rid his body of the poison. But it was robbing him of all his energy, and he was so weak that he could barely move.

            He fell asleep in the hospital in Atlas, and woke up in a forest in Vale. Before he was even completely awake, he recognized it by the smell of the leaves, as the back of his head collided with a tree trunk. He was _home._ He didn’t know why he was there, but he knew exactly who had taken him there.

            Sure enough, the only thing Qrow saw when he opened his eyes was Raven. She was standing about ten feet away from him with her arms crossed, burning a hole in him with her red eyes. As usual, she was furious.

            “What the hell, Raven,” he said, but he didn’t really expect an answer. Which was good, because she didn’t seem prepared to give him one. “I was busy,” he groaned. He tried to stand, but couldn’t.

            “Busy getting your ass kicked. Busy being coddled in _Atlas,”_ she spat the word onto the ground.

            “’Coddled?’” Qrow asked, laughing even though it was painful. “I got poisoned.”

            “Because you were a fool,” she hissed, striding over to where he knelt. “What did I tell you? I told you not to get involved.”

            He refused to concede to her. “I'm an adult, and I’m my own person. You don’t need to order me around any more,” he said.

            “Clearly I do,” Raven replied, gesturing to his injuries, “This is what happens when you don’t listen to me.”

            Qrow tried to stand again. “Alright, I get your point, can I go now?”

            “Absolutely not,” she shot back, gently pushing him to the ground. She got closer, and her voice was deadly quiet. “You hid something from me.”

            He had actually hidden many things from her. The Branwen twins had always kept a healthy amount of secrets from one another, since they were children. But Qrow knew exactly which secret had gotten her so worked up. “You never asked,” he said, raising his eyebrows. He couldn’t help himself, despite knowing that his cleverness would get him nowhere with Raven.

            “I shouldn’t have had to ask,” she said through gritted teeth, “What the hell caused you to get tangled up with a _Schnee_?” She asked, disgusted.

            “I think _that_ is obvious,” he grinned mischievously. It was unfortunate that Raven had found out that he had slept with Winter, but if he let slip that he had feelings for her, she might kill him right then and there.

            “What were you _thinking_?” Raven was absolutely incredulous.

            He laughed. “Again, obvious,” he said as she rolled her eyes. Qrow’s face turned sour as he said, “You’re not exactly one to talk about making moral sexual choices.”

            Raven frowned, but she wasn’t looking at him. He followed her eyes to something behind him. Less than a hundred yards away was the back of Taiyang’s house.

            “Exactly,” Qrow added, and she was silent. “Why did you come here?” He could feel his heart beating faster. Was she here to make things right? That didn’t quite make sense, and it definitely didn’t fit wth what he knew of his sister, but for a moment he dared to hope.

            “I knew it would be safe to talk here,” she replied, with only a hint of hesitation.

            “Right,” he said flatly. He manage to stand up this time, and was preparing to leave when she said,

            “Why did you do it?”

            Qrow chuckled. “I thought I told you, that’s—“

            “No,” Raven cut him off, “I don’t want to hear about why you slept with her. That’s not the issue—well, not the most important issue,” she wrinkled her nose, “People don’t interfere with a White Fang undercover operation for someone they’re just sleeping with. Well, you don’t, anyway.”

            Qrow did not turn around. He was deciding whether or not he was going to lie to her, and he definitely couldn’t do it when looking into eyes that perfectly mirrored his. He had a feeling she already knew the answer to her own question, so he decided to be as honest as he could. “You’ve done some pretty stupid shit for someone you cared about before.”

            “Yes,” she replied, her voice strained, “But I corrected my course of action. And the person I cared about was no _Schnee.”_

Finally he turned around. “Did it ever occur to you how much you hurt the people who cared about you when you ran away?” He asked, but as the words left his mouth he realized they applied to him equally, if not more. And right now it would appear to Winter that he had run away again, in her moment of vulnerability, and he had no excuse that would suffice. “It’s not to late to fix things,” he added as Raven stared at the back of Taiyang’s house. He was saying it as much to her as he was to himself.

            “I didn’t force them to care about me,” she said quietly, looking down at the ground now.

            “Yes, you did,” Qrow replied sharply, raising his voice, “If this is the life you wanted to lead, you shouldn’t have had a relationship, or a _daughter.”_

            Raven refused to match his tone. “I made a mistake,” she said, “But the difference between you and me is that I changed. You put your life on the line for someone who might not have done the same for you.”

            “You ran away to avoid the consequences of your mistake. That’s _not_ changing,” he said, and she scowled, “And you don’t know the first thing about Winter. She would have done it for me.”

            Raven turned to walk away this time, chuckling to herself. “I hope you never have to test that theory,” she said. Before he had a chance to respond, she transformed into a bird and took off, quickly disappearing from sight.

            Qrow sank back down to the ground, resting his back against a nearby tree. He was exhausted, still reeling from his conversation with Raven, and not quite ready to face Taiyang. He closed his eyes, his face warmed by the afternoon sun peeking through the leaves. He had no idea how much time had passed since the infiltration, but based on how his body felt, he guessed it would have been two or three days. It occurred to him that no one would have seen Raven as she took Qrow from the hospital in Atlas. He pulled his scroll out of his pocket, realizing for the first time that she had had the decency to fully dress and arm him before dumping him in the forest on his own. On top of that, she hadn’t stabbed his scroll this time. Qrow was pleasantly surprised.

            He sent a text to Ozpin: “Stolen by a wayward bird.” That would be more than enough of an explanation for him, but sufficiently vague in case it was intercepted. He closed his eyes again, allowing himself to fully think about Winter for the first time since he lost consciousness in Technology Development.

            Telling Winter the truth about his feelings had seemed like a good idea at the time—of course it had. Qrow had thought he was dying. He wasn’t like his sister, he planned to take no secrets to his grave. But he had survived, and now he had to face the consequences.

            Until that moment, he hadn’t allowed himself to consciously think about the fact that he loved Winter. Even now, it made him uncomfortable to address head on. But he had no choice, so the Hunter in him wanted to analyze and attack the problem until it didn’t bother him anymore.

            When had he fallen for her, exactly? When Qrow thought about it, all that came to mind was Winter’s laugh. There wasn’t one particular moment where he remembered falling in love with her, but there were plenty when he realized that it had already happened, whether he liked it or not. After the Education Summit, when she pushed him away, was the first time he had realized he was in far too deep.

            But that was all in the past. What now? Qrow never planned ahead in life, in part because of the way he and Raven had grown up. Making plans had always fallen somewhere between “foolish optimism” and “Why bother?” Their attitudes had bothered the people they were closest to, particularly Taiyang. But there in the forest in Vale, Qrow found himself wishing he had planned ahead.

            He had always been terrible with feelings. Winter, on the other hand, was an expert. Every expression and concealment of emotion was precise and calculated. He had felt it even at the bar in Vale. She had been exactly as vulnerable as she decided to be. Looking back on that night, it irritated him. She was in a committed relationship with no intention of leaving, and yet she had dangled her affection so tantalizingly close that night. There was not a doubt in his mind that she had known that Qrow had feelings for her, that she had known exactly what she was doing. Winter Schnee never did anything on accident.

            Qrow didn’t often regret things, but he regretted telling Winter that he loved her. He would never admit it to Raven (or anyone else, for that matter), but he had screwed up. He had started screwing up a long time ago, when he had given up a perfectly good potential one night stand to find the source of the infectious laugh. When he thought of that night four years ago, he wondered how much would have changed if he had ignored the sound and moved on. Winter hadn’t changed the course of his life, but she had certainly changed him.

            He didn’t want to think about it anymore. A large part of him never wanted to see Winter again. Whether he hated her or fell in love with her, he could only see suffering ahead. He felt weak and sick to his stomach, so he stumbled to Taiyang's house. It wasn’t the first time he had opened his door to find Qrow on his knees, grievously injured, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

            “Qrow!” Taiyang said upon opening the door. He looked pale. “What happened? Ozpin called and said…you infiltrated the Atlas military, got poisoned, and then disappeared from the hospital.”

            He pulled himself back up, supporting his weight by leaning his arm on the doorway. “That’s…pretty much it, actually,” he replied, his voice rough and gravelly.

            Taiyang opened the door and let him inside. As he stumbled slowly to a kitchen chair, Taiyang said, “Qrow, what were you thinking?” It reminded him so much of Raven that he grinned to himself.

            “I wasn’t. Not really,” he said, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair.

            “Clearly,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes exactly like she had.

            Qrow was irritated by his attitude. “Did I…do something to you?” He asked, beginning to sound defensive. Even at the time, he realized it was a poor choice, but he couldn’t stand when Taiyang acted like this.

            “In a way, yes,” he began, hesitating, “You’re lucky you’re not in prison for impersonating a military officer. Or for _treason_ , since you were part of espionage operations in another kingdom.” Qrow was willing to admit that he had a point until he said, “You have a reputation to worry about.”

            Qrow laughed, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? If I do still have a reputation, I’m sure there’s not much left of it.”

            Taiyang was quick to reply, almost as if he had anticipated his answer. “Typical, you’re only thinking about yourself. What about Signal? If the story gets to the public what do you think they’re going to call you? What about Vale? It would have been on thing if you were Atlas military like the rest of them, but you’re not. To the other kingdoms, you’re making Vale look like a kingdom full of traitors.”

            He wanted to reply that every kingdom was full of traitors, but he didn’t get the chance.

            Taiyang raised his voice, nearly shouting now, “No, screw all that. What about _us?_ How do you think I felt when Ozpin called? What about Ruby and Yang?” He paused, gesturing back towards their rooms. The realization stung. “Every time you leave they have to wonder if you’ll ever come back. And every time we talk about it I think you understand, and then you go and do stupid shit like this.”

            Qrow narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, mentally formulating a response Every fiber of his being wanted to shout back, to escalate the situation. If not for the way things had gone lately, he would have easily given in. But perhaps it was time to start planning ahead. “I did what I thought was right,” he replied coolly, “If you knew the whole story, you’d realize you would have done the same thing.”

            Taiyang crossed his arms. “So,” he began, “Tell me, then.”

            “What?” Qrow was suddenly having misgivings about what he thought had been a calculated reply. For whatever reason he hadn’t counted on Taiyang taking him up on the offer. The story started four years ago, drunkenly lying to a young woman who could have been an academy student, and the rest of it didn’t put him in a great light either.

            “How…did you get here? Why did you leave the hospital?” Taiyang asked. At first, Qrow was relieved that this was the part of the story he chose to focus on, until he realized where it would lead them. Taiyang studied him, his eyes flitting back and forth. “Obviously you’re in no state to make that trip on your own, and if Ozpin didn’t know where you were,” he trailed off. Qrow wasn’t sure if he had arrived at the realization or he was about to, but it didn’t matter now.

            “She wanted to talk and…she knew it would be safe here,” he replied, hesitating. He didn’t have to say her name. Taiyang knew.

            His mouth fell open in disbelief. It seemed to dawn on him that Raven, his lost love, had really been so close to his home. His disbelief turned to rage.

            “How _could you?”_ Taiyang growled, and Qrow was only surprised.

            “What, me?” He pointed to himself for effect. Taiyang had uncrossed his arms, which were down at his sides now, with his fists clenched tightly.

            “Yes, _you,_ ” he replied, “She was here, and you did nothing?”

            “What did you expect?” Qrow raised his voice,, “Did you want me to drag her here by force? How do you think that would have panned out?”

            Taiyang sighed, exasperated. “I just wanted you to do something, anything to help me find her. Just once. I just wanted to feel like you were actually on my side, instead of working against me.”

            “I’m _not_ working against you,” he said, “But I’m not on your side. Or Raven’s. I don’t want to be on a side or get dragged into this mess.”

            Taiyang gestured around the room. “If you wanted to avoid taking sides, you shouldn’t have come here. I’m not talking about now, I’m talking about _ever._ You don’t get to live in my house—to spend time with my daughters—and then claim to be neutral when you might have to actually do something difficult. You have to make a choice.”

            Qrow had no response, but he would never admit that Taiyang was right about him. In an uncharacteristic moment of careful consideration, he saw two paths before him. He could concede that he hadn’t been trying very hard to be a part of their family, Taiyang would break down, they would be close for a while and then repeat the process in another six months. But too much had happened to him lately, he had been stretched just a little too far. Already feeling like he was going to regret it later, he chose the second option—he walked away.

\---

            Qrow’s mind was numb as he walked. He was still exhausted and recovering from the poison, but his argument with Taiyang had given him a rush of energy that propelled him blindly forward. He had no idea where he was going or what he planned to do there, but he knew he just had to get away.

            He hadn’t noticed that he had walked across the bridge to Beacon until he arrived there. The students were still in their afternoon classes, the courtyard was deserted. The grass was bright green from a recent rain, and the afternoon sun beat down on him. From a distance, he stared at Summer’s bench, the only place where he truly allowed himself to miss her. But he couldn’t even approach it in his current state. It wasn’t just Summer that he missed today, though. Today, he longed for Team STRQ.

            Even though Qrow and two other members of his former team were still alive, they were really, truly broken, both as a group and individually. “Would you be broken, too, if you were still here?” He asked Summer, but as always, there was no reply. It would be easy to pretend that she could have fixed things with Raven—that everything would just be perfect if only she was still alive. As the years marched on, his memories of her had begun to grow fuzzy. And as they did, it was harder to recall her imperfections.

            Against his will, Winter came creeping back into his mind. Just as he had told Taiyang, she had destroyed him, and he had let her. But not anymore. She wouldn’t be able to drag his feelings around, she wouldn’t be able to push him away, because he would be long gone. He had given her everything—everything he had ever been able to give another human being, and it had been a mistake. He was so sure of himself, so full of resolve, until he heard the loud roar of an airship behind him.

            Qrow watched silently, completely numb as it touched down and landed. A few moments later, all his emotions came rushing back as Winter emerged. They both strode towards each other, closing the gap quickly. She looked just as furious as he was, her cheeks flushed and her fists balled in anger. He could see that her torso was still bandaged, but she had donned what she could of her uniform for this confrontation.

            “You,” Winter hissed as they reached one another.

            “Me?” He asked, immediately defensive. But something changed as they moved closer and closer to one another, until…

            They kissed furiously, like they never had before. Every pent up emotion from the last few days—no, everything they had ever held back since they first met seemed to come flooding out at once. He clutched her hand as it rested on his chest, right where it belonged. But his other hand was holding her face, and he could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. They both knew this couldn’t last.

            The tears kept falling as they pulled apart. Qrow wished that moment would last forever, that time would stop them in their tracks. What he wanted her to say was, “I’m sorry,” or “I need you,” or even—he dared to hope—“I love you too.” Instead, what she said was,

            “Everything is ruined. It’s over.”

            Qrow felt his heart fall, and it stayed there. He felt himself step away without realizing. “No, I’m not going to do this,” he said, shaking his head, “I can’t.”

            Winter’s expression tightened. “Of course not,” she sighed.

            His face soured, matching hers. “Are you serious?” He asked, incredulous. “Have I not done enough for you? What is it that you expect of me?”

            “You’ve done more than enough,” she replied firmly, raising her voice. Anyone else would have been shocked to see how quickly they shifted from kissing passionately to arguing just as passionately, but for them it felt as natural as breathing. “As generous as it was for you to try and end my career by telling Ironwood about our sex life, I think I’ll have to pass on your help from now on.”

            Qrow clenched his teeth, but she cut him off before he could spit out a reply.

            “You and Ozpin throwing me under the bus was just the icing on the cake,” she continued, barely restraining herself, “You got Darya and Nalim fired.”

            What he had been planning to say got thrown out of the window. Instead, Qrow careened forward uncontrollably, just as surprised about the words that left his own mouth. “It didn’t seem to pan out too badly for you, did it?” He said, gesturing to the airship behind her. Winter’s cheeks reddened even further. “I know when you’re—well, _you—_ it certainly seems like the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t. I didn’t throw you under the bus, because I was busy trying not to _die.”_

Winter’s fists were clenched, and Qrow wondered if she was going to strike him. A part of him wanted her to. They had moved past blows before, but words were much harder to take back. Thinking about the time he had spent in Technology Department in Winter’s arms made him feel weak, but not weak enough to give in.

            “I—I didn’t ask you to do that,” she said, nearly shouting. “You’re so—so eager to be the victim, as always. But this—this is just another mission for you. I—I—I lost _everything_. I still have my job, yeah, but Ironwood will never trust me again. And Will, he—he—“ she was trying to shout louder, but her voice broke. She didn’t need to finish the sentence, Qrow knew exactly what had happened.

            “I don’t get why you care, did you forget that he—“

            “Shut up, just shut up!” Winter yelled, tears coming down her face in full force. “He left me because of _you!_ Because of what you said! No—“ her voice broke again, “No matter what he did, I still cared about him, and it wasn’t your choice to make!”

            Qrow was finally as furious as she was. “I _didn’t_ make a choice! I told you how I felt because I—forget it, it doesn’t matter why. Your sleazy boyfriend left you, probably because you never got over me,” he felt a small ounce of satisfaction as her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, presumably to correct him, “And you _still_ find a way to blame it on me! God forbid you take responsibility for anything that happens to you. You’re just—“ he realized it as he said it, “You’re just a kid. A bitter, spoiled kid pretending to be a grownup.”

            Winter made a noise somewhere between a growl and a scream, unable to form words in response. “You don’t get to say—what you said, and then tell me I’m just a kid. You’re just running, you’re just hiding from your own stupid feelings because it’s not as easy as you thought it would be.”

            “Say it,” Qrow growled back, “What I said. Can you even bear to say it out loud?”

            Winter stared back at him. The afternoon sun beat down on them, and its light felt harsh. There in the courtyard in Beacon, she said it, and he knew she meant it.

            “I love you.”

            But it wasn’t at all like he hoped it would be. After all this, they should have been closer than ever, but felt as though there was an ocean between them.

            “Qrow, it’s not that simple, I can’t just—“

            “Just forget it, Ice Queen,” he cut her off, waving his hand as if trying to physically push her away. “I’ve had enough, haven’t you?” He could feel himself mentally building a wall between them, one that wouldn’t come down this time.

            Qrow felt a small shred of regret as she turned away, but he shoved it down as deep as he could.

            “Enough for a lifetime,” she said.

\---

            Even then, Qrow had had a feeling that was not the end of their story. Years passed, crawling through semesters and missions. But he avoided Atlas now, and it seemed like she was avoiding him as well. Equal parts dangerous missions and alcohol helped him suppress memories of the things he had said and done, and girls named after seasons that had broken his heart.

            He didn’t know what he wanted. Every once in a while, when he drank far too much, he would think about what he would do if he saw her again. Qrow made up one elaborate plan after another, but it was never clear. Until, one day, he got his chance.

            He was in a bar in Vale, watching the Vytal Tournament fights on a screen, getting drunk enough to think about her. At first, he couldn’t believe it when he heard the sound of the roaring airship that had been burned into his memory.

            “Heh,” he chuckled to himself.

            Qrow finished his drink. No matter what was about to happen with Winter, he was definitely going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Tune in next time for Chapter 20: Circumstances!


	20. Circumstances

            “When was the last time you were in Vale?” The pilot asked. Winter turned to glare at him, trying to discern his intentions. Was he asking from genuine curiosity? Or had he heard the rumors? In break rooms across the Atlas military complex, hushed voices informed one another that Winter Schnee had had a torrid affair with a schoolteacher from Vale, and an older man at that. It was a very serious accusation for someone who was the presumed heiress to her family’s empire, as well as the youngest, newest member of Ironwood’s inner circle. As she stared back at the pilot, she realized there was no way he _didn’t_ know. There was not a doubt in her mind that she had Will to thank for that.

            “About two years ago,” Winter replied flatly. She wished it had been more, that she could have avoided this place and its memories for even longer. But fate had been pushing her there relentlessly, from the presence of the Vytal Festival to Weiss inexplicably choosing to attend Beacon over Atlas. It was the final push that she could not resist, though, when Ironwood personally asked her to escort reinforcements to Vale.

            Following the pilot’s interruption, she resumed staring out the window at the approaching city. Until now, it had been easier to remove herself from the places and things that brought back memories of people that had hurt her.

            Immediately after her confrontation with Qrow two years ago, Winter returned to Atlas to find that her things had been packed up and moved to the safe house, as Will had promised. On top of the box of matching bedding and curtains they had bought together was Qrow’s note: “I’ll be thinking of you.” The sight of it had caused her to break down all over again. The note, the idea that he would be thinking of her had been comforting in the past. But in that moment she had realized that thinking of each other, even longing for each other, wasn’t enough. She was alone.

            So she made a change. She got rid of a lot of her things, anything that resembled evidence of past lovers. The red dress from the Education Summit, Qrow’s old belt, Will’s heartfelt card from their first anniversary. She thought it would feel satisfying to throw it all in the dumpster, but it hurt all the same. The only remaining evidence that had escaped her warpath was the note, which was placed in the bottom of her desk drawer. Although she couldn’t manage to destroy it, the note had gone untouched in the years since.

            Winter couldn’t bear to return to her old apartment building, which brought back memories of Qrow and Will alike. She moved into a different building, on the opposite side of the military complex from where she used to live, and as close to work as possible without actually being on the property. That choice was even more of a lifestyle change than she had intended. Her new building was full of young Atlas military officers, who seemed to have no life outside of work. When they socialized with one another, they seemed hyper focused on work to the point of absurdity. Naturally, their collective interest was piqued when they found out Winter had moved there. Besides being a Schnee and a renowned Stealth agent, they had heard she had recently been promoted by Ironwood himself to his own Special Forces department. But Winter was still uncomfortable at work, and resisted that social group at first.

            Darya had tried to help her adjust. But this wasn’t like the times in Academy when one of Winter’s casual relationships had crashed and burned in some spectacular way. This had cut her to the core, and there was little Darya could do about it. So she set herself on a mission to distract Winter with anything she could think of. They sparred often, went out for dinner or drinks after work most nights, took day trips on weekends—anything to keep Winter from spending too much time alone. She appreciated it, and was constantly marveled at how much time and energy Darya devoted to taking care of other people. But she had always been that way, since the very formation of Team DAWN. She could tell Darya felt at least a little responsible for some of Winter’s anguish, having introduced her to Will. He was no longer one of her colleagues, but she had heard from a friend still in the department that Will had gotten back together with his previous girlfriend, a childhood friend of his, not long after he and Winter broke up. When Darya told her, it didn’t hurt as much as she had expected it to.

            Even though she kept him up to date on Will, Darya made a point not to talk about Qrow. Winter never brought it up, either. There was nothing to be gained from it. No amount of analysis could fix the situation or make it hurt any less. Darya referred to him only once, when Winter mentioned that the wound on her abdomen had finally begun to scar.

            “You know, when I met him, I wanted to hate him. I think…in different circumstances, you would have been a perfect match,” she had said, with a sad sort of smile on her face.

            “Yeah,” Winter had replied, ignoring the stinging in her eyes. They changed the subject and moved on before it got any worse.

            Darya was a Huntress now, working alongside Ash and Nalim. Ash had married a doctor a few years after they graduated from the Academy. He and his wife had a young daughter at home, so the partially re-formed team never strayed far from Atlas for too long. All the same, Winter saw less and less of Darya as concerns about increasing Grimm populations grew.

            With her former team frequently absent, Winter fell into the habit of socializing with the other military           officers living in her building.

            They meant well, at least. For the most part, anyway. Winter could tell she had become truly successful in the organization, because she was now on the receiving end of a startling assortment of bribes or favors in exchange for a promotion or recommendation. They caught on quickly that she wasn’t interested, but continued to socialize with her regardless of their perceived professional benefit.

            Winter gained a reputation among them for being cold and distant. After all this time, she finally lived up to the Schnee name. In spite of this, they still tried to joke around and tease her from time to time, one of them going as far as calling her “Ice Queen” once. There was no way he could have known what that meant to her, but it infuriated her all the same. What felt like a volcanic eruption inside her translated to only mild irritation on the outside. Her new friends were merely fascinated by the display of genuine emotion, which had become rare for her.

            She had some good times with them, though. They thought very highly of themselves but thought even more highly of Winter, who both outranked them and could drink any of them under the table. Winter’s new group of friends was…fine, but there was something missing, something she longed for deeply, and it took her a while to figure out what it was.

            It occurred to her, after a while, that they never challenged her in any way. They never even questioned her, she realized in a haze as they all drunkenly laughed at a joke someone had made. There were so many times when Qrow would have called her out on something she had said, where her new friends took everything as sacred fact. Once, Winter drank so much she almost called him. Well, she had tried to, but her scroll had run out of battery hours before. Even still, she could hear his voice in her head, as clearly as if he had spoken to her after all. “You got what you wanted, Ice Queen. Are you happy now?”

            “No,” she whispered back to him, tears falling down onto the blank screen of her scroll. “I’m not.”

            Winter shook her head, forcing the memory away. Being drunk had made her feel lonely, there was no reason to give credence to it. She was fine, she was good. Things were finally working out for her now that Qrow was out of her life forever.

            At first, it had been rough with her family following the incident at Technology Development. They worried, not about Winter’s brush with death, but whether her unauthorized mission would go public. She left out many, many details of what happened there. She didn’t tell them that she had the chance to kill the deer Faunus. Her mercy had essentially set him free, and made the White Fang an even greater threat to her family. Winter also left out Qrow completely. Her father, especially, would be absolutely livid if he found out even a shred of what happened. He might even disown her, despite the fact that it was all in the past now. Well, for the moment, at least.

            There was one more thing that was bothering Winter, maybe more than anything else, as they approached Vale. She had received letters from Weiss artfully describing her conflicts (and eventual camaraderie) with her team leader, a girl named Ruby Rose. Winter wanted to believe that it was not Qrow’s niece, Ruby, but she couldn’t. She was the right age, from Vale and—the most damning fact of all—her weapon was a scythe. Winter couldn’t help but see parallels between them. Weiss’ letters expressed feelings that were all too familiar to her—the frustrations, the clashing personalities and backgrounds, the way they challenged one another’s sense of self. But by now, Ruby and Weiss seemed to be working it out, because they had something that Qrow and Winter did not—a need to do so, for the sake of their team. She sighed. If Ruby and Weiss could overcome their differences to become as close as they were, why couldn’t they do the same? She shook her head, dispelling the notion. It wasn’t the same, and there was no way it could be. They were adults, two people from two different universes, both undeniably stubborn.

            “Prepare for landing,” the pilot spoke over the intercom. Winter did the best she could, all the while knowing she would never truly be ready to land in Vale.

            Weiss was waiting for her—and so was Ruby. While they exchanged pleasantries and discussed Weiss’ performance in the Vytal Tournament, Winter could feel her heart pounding. There was not a doubt in her mind anymore that Ruby Rose was Qrow’s niece, and that her presence would draw him near. She didn’t want to be here, in this courtyard, any longer than she had to be. The memories were overpowering.

            As Winter and Weiss headed towards the campus, Ruby excused herself. Winter let out the smallest sigh of relief. Maybe this would be her first normal trip to Vale. Maybe Qrow was away on a mission, not even in the same kingdom. For just a moment, she was relieved…and a little disappointed.

            Her heart jumped as she heard the distinct crunching of metal behind, her, followed by a single word,

            “You.”

            Winter recognized the growl in an instant. She turned around, still wondering if she had imagined the voice, as she had before. But she hadn’t. For the first time in years, Qrow and Winter faced one another in Beacon’s courtyard.

            “Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you, _Ice Queen._ ”

\---

            Later that night, Winter sat alone on her ship, still mortified. She wasn’t usually one to talk to herself, but today had pushed her far beyond the way she normally acted.

            “How can you let him do this to you?” She asked herself as she wrapped her arms around her legs, clutching her knees to her chest. Anyone who saw Winter now would have a hard time believing she was a distinguished military officer, even with the uniform. Now that she was alone, all of the walls had fallen down.

            “The whole stupid point of not—of—ugh,” she cried, unable to properly describe their dramatic goodbye in the courtyard two years ago, “Whatever—it was so he wouldn’t get in your head and screw up your career.”

            “Pull it together,” Winter berated herself, gripping her legs even tighter, “You’re a Schnee, for god’s sake. Don’t throw everything away just to...to get the last word with some...stupid, drunk, washed up Hunter.”

            But she was feeling something she was totally unprepared to feel. She was…happy. Through all of her rage and frustration, fighting with Qrow had made her feel more alive than she had been in two years. Her blood hadn’t stopped rushing for a moment since. She was even half-smiling involuntarily. To anyone that passed through her quarters, she would have looked like a maniac.

            Winter sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her now. This was her ship, so her quarters boasted a comfortable bed, a desk (which had become rife with clutter almost immediately), and an assortment of chairs, in case she felt like holding a small meeting in her personal rooms. In spite of all that, she felt like sitting on the floor. She was a mess, personally torn and professionally humiliated, so she felt like she belonged down there.

            Winter chuckled at the idea of what her officer friends would say if they could see her now. They didn’t believe the rumors that their subordinates had repeated. “Slander, a pathetic attempt and smearing your good name,” one of them had concluded, and the others had concurred. The rumors, of course, were mostly true.

            “The only one ‘smearing my good name’ is me,” she sighed. She wondered how long it would take for news of her latest “Vale incident” to reach back to Atlas. The members of her crew had undoubtedly seen her conflict with Qrow, which had been laced with personal insults. To a trained eye, even their fighting would suggest that they knew each other quite intimately. At the thought, Winter groaned and rested her forehead in her hands.

            She had no idea how to proceed. Darya, Ash and Nalim were currently off the grid, and she didn’t want to burden Weiss with her problems. And there was absolutely no way her work friends would understand. This part of Winter, the part that yelled and loved and cried, was completely removed from them. As far as they knew, it didn’t even exist.

            Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the crashing of metal somewhere else in the ship. “Grimm?” She whispered to herself as she rose rapidly, grabbing her sword, “Or intruders?” Her heart was racing. Since her transfer to Ironwood’s department, Winter hadn’t gotten many chances to get her hands dirty.

            There was a knock on the door to her quarters. Sword still in hand, she pushed the button to open them.

            Winter sighed. “Oh, it’s just you,” she said, but her blood was still rushing. She was alone with Qrow for the first time in years. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but whatever it was, it would be exciting.

            “Ready for Round 2?” Qrow asked, but left his hands in his pockets. Winter didn’t respond, so he added, “If that’s what you’re in the mood for.”

            She was frozen. For so long he had been something like a figment of her imagination, a strange dream she had finally woken up from. Now that they were alone again, Qrow was undeniably real. He had remained unchanged in her memory since they last parted, but the man who stood before her now was rougher, drunker and greyer than he had been two years ago. Winter stared into his red eyes, wondering what he had seen, what he had done that would make him this way.

            She still hadn’t spoken, so he took another step closer to her. “What _are_ you in the mood for, Ice Queen?” He asked slyly, with a wink. Some things hadn’t changed at all.  
            “I...haven’t decided yet,” she hesitated, and he raised his eyebrows. This annoyed her. “You humiliated me in front of Ironwood and the others!”

            He was quick to reply. “You did a pretty good job of that yourself,” he said with a small chuckle, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

            Winter let out a growl of frustration. “You know damn well I belonged in that room,” she said, her voice low and quiet. She wanted to fight, but there was something that had been bothering her since her conversation with Ironwood that day in the hospital. It had finally come to the surface. “Was I—was I only ever just a scapegoat to you?”

            “You are unbelievable,” Qrow groaned, scowling at her. He took another step closer to her, but this time it was driven by anger. As much as she hated to admit it, Winter found it satisfying that she still had an effect on him. “Do you really think I’d sink to your level like that?”

            “My…level?” Winter repeated, incredulous. Blood was rushing to her cheeks now, despite every attempt to contain her emotions.

            “You knew,” he said gravely, almost a whisper. “You knew all along, and you pushed me away anyway.”

            She was infuriated now, two years’ worth of hidden emotions suddenly boiling over. “Do you really think I never thought about it? About _us?_ After the Education Summit, when I first met Will…you were always on my mind. I played it out in my head so many times…even after I found out that he…” She trailed off, shaking her head instead of finishing her sentence. “I thought about what it would be like…to be with you. I was ready to…ready to give up anything for you. But I knew—I’ve always know—that you would run away when things got hard, just like you always do. And then, I would have nothing.”

            Qrow didn’t respond immediately. He leaned against the doorway, not looking at her. In the pause, Winter regretted everything she had said. She thought again about her reputation, and her work friends. Something about him always made the cold, distant Winter Schnee come completely undone. She wanted to blame it on their history, but she knew it had been that way since they first met.

            “So what is it that you have, exactly?” He asked, “What have you got that you’re so afraid to lose?”

            “My job, my career,” she was quick to answer, but the words didn’t come easily after that. “My family,” she added.

            Qrow was unconvinced. “Whatever you say,” he said, waving his hand. He began to turn to leave.

            “Wait!” The word left her mouth before she could stop it. He turned back with a characteristic smirk on his face. Instead of thinking and planning her words like she always did, Winter simply spoke. “I _know_ we can get along, I _know_ we can have good times, we’ve done it before. Why—why does it feel so impossible right now?” She asked. She could feel her palms begin to sweat. It had been quite a while since she had been this honest with someone, even herself.

            He seemed to think about this for a while. He looked like he was trying to hide the fact that he was smiling. He shrugged. “Circumstances,” he said with a sigh.

            “But if it’s just that, then why do you—why do we—“ She stuttered, trying to figure it out as she was speaking.

            “Winter,” Qrow said, and it floored her. It had been a long time since he had called her anything but Ice Queen. “Just let me in,” he said quietly.

            For a second she stopped to analyze, wondering which meaning he had intended. Probably both, she realized. Not that it mattered, she thought to herself as she stepped aside, allowing him to walk into her quarters.

            The first room, where Winter had been sitting on the floor, was her office. It was home to the cluttered desk and assorted chairs, which Qrow was now inexplicably pushing towards the walls.

            “What…are you doing?” She asked. Instead of responding, he swiftly turned around, put one hand on her waist and grabbed the other. Before she realized what was going on, they were waltzing around her office.

            “You said it yourself, we did it before, we can do it again,” he said with a wink, and she settled into the silent rhythm of their dance. “Pretend it’s your promotion ceremony. Pretend it’s the Education Summit. I’m wearing a suit, and you’re wearing _that_ dress,” as he said it his eyes went wide, and Winter blushed, “Pretend we’re drunk.”

            “You _are_ drunk,” she pointed out.

            “Alright, pretend _you’re_ drunk, then,” he clarified.

            She gave some thought to the idea as they continued to dance around the room. Now that they were touching, Winter could feel the electric pull of attraction, the fire in her chest that had only grown with time.

            “We got into a fistfight at the Education Summit,” she reminded him, but it didn’t even sound convincing to herself.

            “But it was fun, wasn’t it?” He asked, with a sparkle in his red eyes.

            As she looked at Qrow, Winter thought of every fight, every argument and passionate encounter they had ever had. She kissed him, hard, reaching up with both of her hands to grab his face. She could tell she had surprised him, because his arms hung in the air for a moment before he wrapped them tightly around her waist. For just a second, she pulled away.

            “It always is,” she said.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Tune in next time for Chapter 21: Huntress!


	21. Huntress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really been looking forward to this chapter! Hope you enjoy it! (and my loose interpretation of canon, lol (but seriously don't comment and say I got something wrong, I'm sticking not to what I like and what's convenient for me))

            “I’ll tell her you’re okay,”

            The words rang in Qrow’s ears for weeks afterwards. Ironwood hadn’t said anything else. He hadn’t needed to. Many stories had ended at Beacon that night, and Qrow’s could have easily been one of them.

            He hadn’t said anything back at the time. There was nothing to say—to Ironwood, at least. Qrow knew that Winter would have wanted to be there, at Beacon, protecting her sister and her boss. And she would have been brilliant, too, that much was certain. From the times they had fought against and beside one another, Qrow knew that she had skills well beyond her years. More than anything, the clash in Technology Development had proven that she would fight to the bitter end, despite grievous injury. And that when given the choice, she picked mercy over vengeance. That, Qrow had realized, was exactly why she _shouldn’t_ have been there.

            Winter Schnee had entered the military during a time of peace. Because of this, she had maintained something that resembled a sense of honor, a need for justice. That worked fine when the only threats she faced were from a small terrorist group targeting her family. But the world was different now. Qrow had seen it from the beginning. Now, before the eyes of the public, the war had begun. There was no place for honor and justice in war, there was only survival.

            Taiyang had remained on Patch, teaching at Signal to help the citizens of Vale maintain a sense of normalcy. He was also taking care of Yang. She had lost much more than her arm when she rushed into battle to save someone she loved. The bright, feisty child that Qrow had known was gone, probably forever. Yang was stubborn, and he knew she would return to fight another day. But she would never, ever be the same.

            Qrow wasn’t interested in creating a sense of normalcy. It seemed disingenuous, considering how far from normal things were now. Instead, he followed Ruby, who had set out for Mistral with three of her friends.

            “I’ll tell her you’re okay,”

            He found himself hearing the words quite often in the weeks he spent in Mistral. It was impossible not to think of Winter when everything was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The night they had spent on her ship had been the best time they had ever had. Qrow realized it was probably the best time he had spent with another person. But even in the moment, as he watched her put her uniform back on as he left, Qrow had wondered if it could ever last. They were black and white, they were so different that they could only spend time together by forcibly setting aside the things that pushed them apart. But man, it had been worth it. The memory of stroking her hair as they laid in bed together kept him warm as he trekked through the snow.

            Watching Ruby and her new team brought back painful memories for Qrow. They were grieving the loss of a teammate and friend, which was a familiar feeling for him. He had been oddly detached while Summer and Taiyang had been broken by Raven’s disappearance, but losing Summer had changed Qrow forever. He could see now, on the faces of these _children,_ that they felt that same pain. He stayed back, constantly out of sight, partially because he had no comforting words for them. He knew from experience that the pain would dull over time, but it would follow them for the rest of their days.

            After a couple weeks of slow travel, a few things happened all at once. The group had stopped to make a campfire, and Qrow was perched above them in a tree, chirping softly. Ruby sat with her back to the fire and her friends, tending lovingly to Crescent Rose. All of a sudden, a white glow filled the area before her. Even out of the corner of his eye, Qrow would have known that glow anywhere.

            But the glyph wasn’t meant for him. Ruby had scrambled to her knees to examine it, and her three companions stood behind her, watching it cautiously. It was very small, but bright. It seemed to be letting through some kind of wind, because it was pushing Ruby’s hair back as it illuminated her face. It seemed to be struggling to get larger, growing slowly and erratically. At last, the glyph reached a size of about three feet wide and stopped, spinning gently. Qrow wondered if a Schnee was going to come out of it, but he had never known Winter to be able to use her semblance over such a great distance.

            Something small emerged from the center of the glyph. Qrow couldn’t make out what it was, until Ruby tenderly scooped it up with both hands. It was a rose, rendered white by the Schnee semblance. Ruby stared at it for a few moments, perfectly still except for her bottom lip trembling. She closed her hands, holding the flower to her chest as it and the glyph disappeared. In an instant, she seemed to snap, rushing around the campsite as fast as her semblance would allow. In just a few seconds, she had gathered up all of her things and given each of her companions a hug.

            “Sorry guys, gotta go, Weiss is in trouble!” She said as she sped off into the distance, leaving a shower of flower petals in her wake.

            Qrow, like Ruby’s companions, was completely dumbfounded. The rose had been some kind of distress signal, and Ruby had understood it so clearly that she had dropped everything in a second. The additionally implications began to concern him immediately. Had Atlas been breached by Cinder, as Vale had? Whatever trouble Weiss was in, there was a good chance that Winter was in it too. The myriad of horrible possibilities plagued him as he flew aimlessly across Mistral, disconnected from the group of Beacon students now that Ruby was gone.

            There was only one way Qrow was going to find out if a disaster had occurred in Atlas. It took him about an hour to fly to the nearest Hunters’ Lodge, one of the largest in all of Mistral. It was a huge, open hall with large tables and a fireplace at each end. On one side of the room was a large mission board that stretched all the way to the ceiling, filled with requests from across all of Remnant. A few Hunters and Huntresses were peering at it, trying to decide where they were most needed. On the wall opposite the mission board was a long bar, lined with television screens, all turned to the news. Even though it was only late afternoon, it was already more than half full of Hunters and Huntresses, probably drinking to forget the things they had seen, as Qrow was about to.

            As he drank, he tried to formulate some kind of plan. Following Ozpin’s mysterious disappearance, Ruby had been his best bet for doing something worthwhile. Until today when she rushed off, presumably to Atlas, on some kind of solo rescue mission. Qrow knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop her even if he tried, but deep down he worried she would meet a similar fate to Yang—grievously injured, or worse—rescuing someone she loved. At the same time, he was proud of them. The world could not function with only cynics like himself. Humanity desperately needed the light that his nieces carried in their hearts, even in the face of loss and pain. He was proud, and he knew Summer would have been, too.

            For a while, Qrow considered chasing after Ruby. She was surely headed for the Mistral airport, where she would be trying to catch a flight to Atlas. He would feel better if he was by her side through whatever she was about to face. And, if he was perfectly honest, he knew that path would lead to Winter.

            Whatever ideas Qrow had had about possibly trying to build a future with her had been utterly destroyed when the war began. For just a little while, they had been able to make it work. But the whole world had changed—how would they be able to find common ground again? After all, war had a way of polarizing people.

            “Hi,” a soft voice came from beside him. A young woman, a Huntress with bright purple hair pulled into a braid, had taken the seat next to his at the bar. She had bright blue eyes, pale skin, and freckles splayed across her nose and under her eyes.

            “Hey,” he replied, unenthusiastic. In a different time, Qrow would have had a wonderful time with this woman who was obviously attracted to him. But through a combination of factors, he just wasn’t feeling up to it. He was getting older, work and war had taken so much out of him, and of course…Winter.

            “Where are you from?” The young woman asked, sounding far too cheery for the context they were in. Qrow groaned internally. He hated that question. He was thinking of Winter so powerfully that he almost said her name as a response.

            “Atlas,” he said instead. He didn’t want to say Vale, he didn’t want to talk about what happened at Beacon. Truthfully, he didn’t want to talk about anything at all, but that didn’t seem to be an option. For once, he didn’t quite have it in him to be rude to her.

            She scooted closer to him and responded, “So you’re used to the cold, then?”

            Qrow barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Something like that,” he sighed. If the young woman had even noticed his complete disinterest, she was powering through regardless.

            “I’m Garnet,” she said, reaching her hand out. He shook it, taking a long drink with his other hand. He searched for the bartender with his eyes, already aching for another one.

            “Qrow,” he replied.

            “Well, Qrow. Since you’re so far from home, I would love to offer you a place to stay,” Garnet said with a wink. She was a master at his own game, but tonight he didn’t feel like playing.

            His eyes darted around, looking for a way out. “Sorry, I’m actually…waiting…for someone…” His gaze locked on the front door as a small group of people walked in.

            It took a few seconds for him to realize it was Winter. She was still dressed in white, but her current ensemble couldn’t be further from her military uniform or anything he had ever seen her in. She was wearing tight jacket, belted at her waist over a blouse unbuttoned to show a dangerous level of cleavage. As if that wasn't enough to drive him crazy, she had a short pleated skirt and tall white boots. What surprised him most though, was her hair. One side of it was pulled into tight braids along the side of her head, but the rest of it was down, falling wildly past her shoulders. Even though it couldn’t possibly be anyone else, Qrow really couldn’t believe that it was her. He had never seen her with her hair down in public before, only in their most intimate moments.

            “Oh,” Garnet said. She was also staring at Winter now. “I don’t think I can compete with that,” she sighed.

            Winter had spotted him. She smiled. As she did, he noticed that she was no longer hiding the scar across her face. Right now, she didn’t look anything like an heiress, or even an esteemed military officer. She looked like…

            “…a Huntress,” he whispered to himself.

            Qrow was only able to tear his eyes away from her when he saw a bright glint of metal beside her. All of a sudden, he noticed the rest of Team DAWN.

            Even though it had been years since he had seen Darya and Nalim, he recognized them instantly. Darya seemed truly immune to the cold, with shorts and a sleeveless shirt that displayed her entire mechanical arm in all its glory. He chuckled to himself as he noticed that she was still brandishing the metal baseball bat. It had certainly been effective.

            To Winter’s right was Nalim, who was looking thinner than when Qrow had last seen him. He seemed more appropriately dressed for the weather, with a long wool coat and thick canvas pants. He looked the most beaten up out of the four, with tattered clothes that looked like they had been ripped by claws. But that made sense, considering he used a short range weapon.

            That left the man to Winter’s left, which Qrow supposed was Darya’s partner, Ash. He was tall and lanky, with short, spiky hair that was silver, but not from age. His eyes were a dark, smokey grey, looking at Qrow questioningly. He was wearing a long trench coat, and in one of his hands was a weapon that resembled a small, sharp boomerang. Ash glanced from Winter to Qrow, then said something to Darya that resulted in her elbow to his ribs.

            Qrow strode over to Winter without really noticing he was doing it, like he was under some kind of spell. The rest of Team DAWN and a few other people were watching them, sensing something. She hadn’t stopped smiling the entire time, but it wasn’t the same, innocent smile Garnet had given him. It was mischievous, it was scheming and planning and analyzing. Time spent with Winter was never, ever boring.

            “What are you doing here?” She asked, looking confused as he reached the point where she stood.

            Qrow wasn’t quite sure of anything anymore. Not even his eyes would rest—he couldn’t stop glancing between her hair, her eyes, her breasts, her legs. She folded her arms across her chest, smirking at him. Clearly, she didn’t seem to mind.

“I—I was following—I was looking for,” he stopped himself, waving his hand in the air, “Who cares about that, what are _you_ doing here?”

            Winter laughed. It was so refreshing to hear it again, even bought it had been no more than a month since they had seen each other. “I suppose that’s a fair question,” she said, resting her hand on her hip, “How about we talk about it over a drink?”

            “I think…I might be able to pencil you in,” he replied with a wink, and they made their way over to the bar. The rest of Team DAWN did the same, but gave Qrow and Winter some space.

            She sighed as they sat down. Qrow was still busy processing the drastic change in her appearance, and wondered what other drastic changes might have come along with it. “What _happened_ to you?” He asked after they had ordered their drinks.

            “Not much, actually,” she said slowly. Winter shrugged and added, “After all those years of you, always there, reminding me I was trying so hard to be someone else. I just…gave up. For a while, at least.”

            Qrow nearly spit out the first sip of his drink in surprise. “You quit?” He had suspected that might be the case since he saw her walk through the door, but he still couldn’t believe it.

            Winter shook her head. She thought for a moment, deciding very carefully about how to proceed. “After Ironwood returned to Atlas, a lot of officers were placed on…’extended leave’. I—he knows he can’t trust me,” she shrugged again, taking a sip of her drink as she thought, “But I’m starting to think that’s not such a bad thing.”

            “Aw, Ice Queen,” Qrow said with a touch of melodrama, “You’re growing up.” For a second he worried Winter would be angry, but she wrinkled her nose and shoved him on the shoulder playfully. Today, the circumstances were in their favor. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re in Mistral.”

            “Oh,” Winter said with a small chuckle, as if she had forgotten, “That is a much funnier explanation.” She turned around to face to rest of her team. Darya was standing, leaning up against the bar as she polished her mechanical arm. She seemed to be supervising Nalim, who had a needle and thread and was mending his jacket. They were both chatting with Ash, who was sitting between them, drinking some kind of brightly-colored cocktail with a small umbrella.

            “Ash,” Winter began, pointing at him. He noticed and waved back, smiling. For someone who appeared so grey, he seemed quite cheery. “He’s married to a lovely lady named Cora Weaver.”

            “Who is way out of my league,” Ash interjected, and his teammates murmured a chorus of agreement.

            “So naturally, Darya started dating her twin sister,” Winter continued with a sly grin. Darya was blushing furiously.

            “We just weren’t spending enough time together, Balik,” Ash said, showing her gently. She shoved him back harder, still blushing.

            “Cora and her sister, Rory, moved to Mistral about a month ago, to be close to their family,” Winter explained, “Atlas…isn’t as safe as it used to be. So to be closer to them,” she threw a glance at Ash and Darya, “We’ve been taking missions down here.”

            “Huh,” Qrow said, looking at her as she watched the rest of her team, “It’s a different life for you, isn't it?” He asked.

            Winter laughed and shook her head, turning back around to face him. “Not really, no. It’s the one I had long ago, before you were ever around,” she said, winking.

            “I like it,” Qrow said quietly, leaning closer to her. He had never wanted to touch her more. “It suits you,” he said.

            “I missed you,” she whispered so softly that he wasn’t sure if he had heard right at first. He was busy wondering if he had ever heard her say that to him before when Winter Schnee kissed him in broad daylight, nearly sober, in front of her team.

            “This is different,” he said quietly as they pulled apart for just a moment, still pressing their foreheads together. When Qrow opened his eyes to see that Winter was blushing, he added, “Don’t worry, I love it.”

            “Hey!”

            The word was punctuated by a loud crack. They jumped apart, startled. Darya had slammed her hand down on the bar behind Winter, which more than got their attention. But she wasn’t angry, she was grinning.

            “Don’t you forget that we have work to do!” Darya said as she slammed her metal fist into her open palm.

            “A mission?” Qrow inquired.

            “Not really, no,” Winter replied, giggling. “It was the twins’ birthday a few days ago, but our mission lasted longer than expected, so we’ll be celebrating with them tonight.” She paused, glanced around at her team, and then continued, “If you’ll still be around…you’re welcome to join us, of course. We’ll be here, in the lodge.”

            Qrow didn’t answer immediately, and this appeared to make her nervous. “Of course, I understand you’re probably on some important mission that’s beyond us,” she added. A few years ago she would have said it sarcastically, but this time she was completely genuine.

            He waved his hand, then replied, “No, no, it’s not that.” The trance-like state that seeing her put him in had pushed the thoughts of the mysterious glyph far from his mind until now. “Can I talk to you about something?”

            Darya rolled her eyes at him. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head back at her, and she laughed. There was a tiny bit of joy that lit up deep inside his heart. It had been a long time since he had been able to joke with anyone that resembled a friend. Winter obliged, and they stepped out into the snow.

            The wind was blowing hard, so she pulled up the hood of her jacket. “What…did you want to talk about?” She asked.

            Now that they were out there, Qrow was having trouble articulating what he had seen. The glyph, the rose, the trembling of Ruby’s lip—it all played through in his head over and over again. “You know that my niece and your sister…” He began, and she nodded. “I saw…a glyph. I think Weiss sent Ruby some kind of…distress signal. It was a rose.”

            Winter gasped, and shook her head. “That's impossible! Weiss is with my family, in Atlas,” she said, but she didn’t quite sound convinced. “Are you sure?” She asked, studying him with her eyes.

            “I would know a Schnee glyph anywhere,” he said firmly, with a half-smile. “I don’t suppose it’s yours?”

            Winter shook her head again. She was looking off into the distance, her brow furrowed as she thought intently about something. “I’m going to call home,” she said, sounding more and more concerned with each word. “I’ll meet you back inside.”

            Qrow nodded. He wanted to stay out there with her while she made the call, but understood her need for privacy. As he walked back inside, he was apprehensive. Even disconnected from the military, she was still a Schnee, and that had the possibility to come between them.

            When he walked back through the doors of the lodge, he immediately noticed the remainder of Team DAWN at one of the long tables. Darya was speaking to the other two in a low voice, and she stopped and looked up when Qrow entered.

            He raised his eyebrows and said, “Talkin’ about me?”

            “Pfft, of course,” Darya said with a laugh. She was sitting on the top of the table, with her feet on the bench beside it, and she was resting her forearms on her thighs. “You have to realize this is a pretty big deal for us.”

            “What, exactly?” He asked, suspicious.

            Darya turned to Nalim, who was sitting at the bench across from her. He had been Winter’s partner, and probably knew her better than anyone. “Eh,” he began, hesitating, “She dated people in the Academy, but she always, always got bored of them. Never thought I’d see the day when she was evenly matched.”

            It was strange. The way Qrow was talking about Winter to the rest of her team, it almost seemed like they had a relationship. After that kiss at the bar, maybe they did. He couldn’t tell if it was his instincts or his fears, but deep down he believed it was too good to be true.

            Before Qrow could respond, Winter returned through the front door. His heart rate picked up as he noticed she looked concerned. He knew he would drop everything to help Ruby if there was big trouble in Atlas. But as she approached, her words didn’t quite match up with her expression.

            “Everything is fine,” she said to Qrow, but loud enough for the rest of her team to hear. “Weiss is still with my family in Atlas, safe.” But she still looked worried, with her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed.

            “Are you sure?” He asked. He couldn’t fathom how that was possible. Weiss wouldn’t have done something so drastic with her semblance just for fun. Qrow had been there when the glyph appeared. Even from the tree above, he had felt something like desperation coming from it. “Did you talk to her?”

            “Yeah, I did,” Winter said, frowning, “She said everything was fine…and that she didn’t know anything about the glyph.”

            Qrow frowned as well, and said, “Well, that can’t be right…can it?”

            She sighed and put a hand to her forehead. “I…really don’t know,” she said. She stopped to pull her hood off, and shake her hair out.

            “What do you want to do?” Qrow asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

            She sighed again, but smiled at his gesture. “If my father and Weiss both say things are fine, I can’t really interfere,” she said, “So…I’d like to have a good night with you. Think we can manage?”

            Qrow smiled back at her. The walls that had frustrated them for so many years had started to come down. “Yeah, I do,” he said.

            For the first time in years, Qrow had an enjoyable, even fun night. Team DAWN made for nice company. They never avoided the topic of of the war or what had happened at Beacon, but they seemed firmly focused on the present, and what was within their power to do. That seemed to be the result of Darya’s leadership. In quite a few ways, Darya reminded him of Summer.

            The twins—Ash’s wife Cora and Darya’s girlfriend Rory--joined them a bit later. They were identical: petite women with dark brown skin and maroon hair in tight, fluffy curls and bright pink eyes. Despite their size, they both carried themselves with a sense of power, and had a sort of ethereal air that seemed to surround them.  

            Qrow had spent a lot of time with Winter over the years they had known each other, but for the first time in a long time, it felt completely new. The tension they had become so accustomed to had suddenly dissipated, and this is what they were left with. It was a small pocket of joy within a world torn apart, and Qrow felt like he would do anything to stay there forever.

            To those that didn't know them, they could have been a normal couple. They laughed and teased and casually touched one another throughout the night, like two people that didn't have a fraught, complicated personal history. It was almost enough to pull them away from their real lives. A few times, Qrow caught Winter staring off into space, looking worried. Was it her family that was bothering her? He wondered if she, too, had the sinking feeling that this couldn't possibly last.

            When the night seemed to draw to a close, they headed off into the snow. The last time they had been together, it had been a jarring transition from arguing to sex, as it usually was. But this was something completely different. They had spent the whole night close to each other, together for all the world to see. As if they were new lovers, they kissed as they stood outside the Hunters’ Lodge in the still-falling snow. It was comfortable, like a sigh of relief, and their lips met more tenderly than they ever had. The changing circumstances had given way to a gentleness that had been hidden deep within them both for so long, guarded by the walls they had built to keep each other out.

            “Get a room,” Darya shouted at them as she walked past, but she looked happy. The rest of Team DAWN and the twins were heading back to the town on foot, making their way through the snow.

            Qrow and Winter pulled apart for a moment, laughing. Winter looked embarrassed, and her cheeks reddened even further. He was too busy admiring the way the snowflakes had fallen onto her stark white hair. Her deep blue eyes watched him expectantly. He kissed her forehead, closing his eyes and trying to understand that this was actually happening, this was all real. When he pulled back to look at her again, Qrow was overcome with a feeling that he now recognized.

            “I love you,” he said, brushing her bangs out of her face. This time, he was not poisoned, he was not dying, and he was not afraid.

            “I love you too,” she said, smiling through every word. They leaned back in slowly, pausing as their noses brushed. There was not the urgency of their previous meetings, when they had both known it would be over in a night. They had all the time in the world, now.

\---

            Qrow woke with a start the next morning. He could hear Winter’s voice coming from the hallway outside their hotel room. He couldn't make out her words, but the panic in her voice was unmistakable.

            “I’ll be right there, I swear—“ He heard her say as she came back in the room. She was talking to someone on her scroll who had apparently just cut her off. Her face soured as she said, “No, I’m not working against—how dare you? I’m just in Mistral for…work, I said I’d be there as soon as I can. How dare you say that I don’t care?” She hung up and finished getting dressed. There was a sinking feeling in Qrow’s stomach as he realized that she was putting on her military uniform.

            “I’m sorry—I have to go back to Atlas,” Winter said, turning to him with wide eyes, “Weiss is missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for Chapter 22: Rose!


	22. Rose

                Winter stood before the front door of her parents’ house, filled with terror, as she had so many times before. This time, her mind had been reeling with every horrible possibility since she had left Mistral, but now that she was here, she was afraid of what she might find out. She desperately wanted to believe that Weiss was with Ruby, safe, but it seemed like wishful thinking. She crossed her arms against her chest, as if she could shield herself from the awful truths within. Today, her uniform wasn't enough to make her feel safe.

                To her surprise, Haizea did not answer the door. It was her father, and it was clear he had been expecting her. Winter suppressed the urge to gasp in disbelief. Her mind went into overdrive again, and she realized that her father had almost certainly fired Haizea as a result of Weiss’ disappearance. He did not say a word. Instead, he walked into the entrance hall, with his hands behind his back, and he left the door open for her to follow.

                Winter stepped just barely into the hall, shutting the door behind her. As she did, her father spoke to her, his voice booming from the other side of the room.

                “Please, go and retrieve your sister,” he said firmly. She gaped at him from across the room, not willing to go any closer. This couldn't have been further from the reaction that she expected.

                “I—what—how—I don't know where she is,” she said, trying to remain composed. That was only about half true. As soon as she had found out Weiss went missing, Winter knew it had something to do with Ruby Rose. Had Weiss known she was in danger, and sent Ruby the glyph as a distress signal? If so, why hadn’t she told Winter when they talked? She felt her stomach turn over. There wasn't a single possibility that she was comfortable with.

                “’Retrieve’ her?” She repeated, “She could be in danger.”

                “Doubtful,” her father responded, without missing a beat. He could clearly see that Winter was puzzled. “Your sister and I had a…disagreement yesterday regarding her future. I had no idea she intended to punish us in this way.”

                Winter balled her fists, filled with the familiar, specific kind of rage that only her father could incite. She was willing to bet it had been far more than a disagreement. Only her father could be so self-centered as to believe that Weiss had left in order to punish him. She had _escaped_. And more than likely, she had done it with the help of Ruby Rose.

                “I’m not going to retrieve her for you,” Winter said flatly. “I just care that Weiss is safe, don’t you?” In spite of herself, a small bit of desperation came through in her voice.

                “I expect much more of her than that,” her father said coolly, “Even if _you_ are a lost cause.”

                She had long suspected that her father felt this way, but hearing the words still stung. “Then why call me?” She asked, crossing her arms again.

                “If you truly don't care about our wishes, why answer?” He replied, with something almost like a grin.

                “I care about Weiss,” she shot back. Before he could answer, she turned and let herself back out the front door. Winter couldn't stand to hear another word her father had to say, and she now knew exactly where her sister would be.

\---

                The sun was beginning to set when Winter reached Vale. The orange and gold sky was reflected on the fresh snow that had fallen earlier that day. She was thoroughly exhausted, having woken up in Mistral that morning and traveled to Atlas and Vale the same day. She made her way to Patch, the island off to coast where two of her sister’s teammates lived with their father.

                Qrow had told Winter about his family in bits and pieces over the years. All of the little stories had added up to create something that almost explained why he was the way he was. What had happened to his team had hurt him deeply, but it wasn't quite the whole story. She had always felt as though he had buried something even deeper inside, as if there was a missing piece to the puzzle. Winter wondered if maybe she would find it here.

                She didn't know if Qrow had returned to Vale or not, but she cautiously hoped he would be there. The previous night had been like a dream, or even a fantasy she had constructed in her head. She desperately needed proof that it was real. The day so far—donning her uniform again, seeing her father—it had begun to rip her away from what felt like a vacation from reality. Winter, and perhaps the two of them together, had been running on borrowed time.

                She found herself faced with the door before she was ready, for a second time that day. Suddenly, she wondered what she would do if she was wrong and Weiss wasn't there. At best, she would like a fool in front of strangers, and at worst they would think she was accusing them of kidnapping her sister. In spite of all that, she knocked.

                A few moments later, a tall, blonde, middle aged man answered the door. He blinked at her for a couple seconds, and then glanced into the room behind him. “You must be Winter,” he said, offering his hand, but standing very firmly in the doorway. He seemed polite, but on edge.

                She nodded as she shook his hand. “Taiyang Xiao Long?” She asked, recalling the name of Qrow’s former teammate.

                “Yes,” he said, with his brow furrowed. She could hear soft, rushed whispering coming from behind him. “I…” He said, catching her eyes trying to look into the room past him. She gave him a steely gaze that indicated she was willing to force her way past him, and he stepped aside. “She’s here,” he said to Winter quietly as she entered.

                She walked from the kitchen into the living room, where the whispering had come from. Sure enough, the two girls were there. Ruby and Weiss were sitting on the floor, both looking worse for wear. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed that Ruby had moved between Winter and her sister, looking angry. One hand twitched, moving towards her weapon. The other was holding Weiss’, who looked terrified.

                “No, no, wait,” Winter threw her hands up in surrender, “You don’t understand, I’m not here to take you back.” Both Ruby and Weiss’ faces broke.

                “You’re…not?” Weiss said in disbelief, “But dad said…”

                “Don’t listen to him,” Winter replied, kneeling down to their level, “You don’t ever have to go back there again. I—“ she added with a chuckle, “I don’t really want to either.”

                “I’m sorry,” Weiss whispered. Sensing that everything was okay now, Ruby backed up and let Winter sit on the floor next to her. As the two Schnee sisters leaned against the foot of the couch, Winter wondered if Weiss had inherited her tendency to forgo furniture when she felt like her life was falling apart. “I…Dad told me that you would show me how to be a proper Schnee. I’m so sorry, I should have trusted you anyway.”

                “Well, he told me I was a lost cause,” Winter replied, and touched her sister’s hair affectionately. She hadn’t wanted to believe that her father’s words had bothered her, but she couldn’t deny that it felt good to tell the person that would understand better than anyone else in world.

                “What?” Weiss exclaimed, “They—they always made me feel like you were perfect, and I was constantly trailing behind,” she said, her voice falling at the memory.

                Winter shook her head. “They always told me that they wouldn’t make the same mistakes with you,” she said, then smiled and added, “They weren’t prepared for Weiss Schnee.”

                She smiled back weakly, but didn’t respond.

                “Look, I know I wasn’t around to be the sister you deserved,” Winter began, “But if you’re willing, I could try and make up for lost time.” She reached out both her hands. As Weiss took them, the first tears began to fall.

                They didn’t stop falling, even after the two sisters found a room where they could speak alone. Weiss didn’t talk for a while, just cried while Winter held her. They sat on one of the girls’ beds, Winter leaning up against a stack of pillows on the headboard with Weiss quietly sobbing against her shoulder. She could not imagine the pain her sister felt. She had lost a friend at the battle of Beacon, been forcefully ripped away from her team to return to a home that didn’t welcome her. The younger Schnee had been broken, and by no small thing. It had taken the entire world to do it.

                Winter ran her fingers through Weiss’ long, white hair. It looked like it had been in some kind of fancy up-do and slowly fallen down. The two sisters had never before been this affectionate with one another. Winter felt guilty that it had taken such dire circumstances to finally bring them together.

                After a little while, she started to calm down. Ruby came to check on them and deliver a glass of water to the bedside table. She turned to leave, but Weiss grabbed her hand and asked her to stay. Ruby sat down next to them on the bed, and after a few moments, Weiss spoke in a watery voice.

                “I, um, I’m sorry,” she began, looking at Winter. Without turning to look, she reached for Ruby’s hand. This seemed to have become a habit for them.”There was—I had a problem—with dad.”

                “I figured as much,” Winter said with a half-smile. Weiss, like all Schnees, had a tendency to downplay horrible things that happened to her. Winter’s smile disappeared. “Did he hurt you?” She whispered quietly.

                “No, not really,” she said, shaking her head, “We argued. He said that letting me go to Beacon was a mistake. He said that I would never leave the Schnee house again if I didn’t show him the proper respect. When I told him I was my own person, I was going to leave and help my friends,” she faltered, “He said that I didn’t have friends, that no one was on my side. No one would listen to me, and no one would come for me if I left.” A single tear streamed down her face, and she wiped it away with her free hand. “I almost believed him.”

                Weiss shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts. “I tried to go away, but he—“ she paused again, then said softly, “He used his semblance to stop me.”

                Winter gasped. She had been well aware that her father’s aura had been unlocked when he was young, but she had never seen him use his semblance. In all of her arguments with her father, none of them had ever been that severe. She supposed that her father’s desperation to control his family had increased as time went on, and he had realized that both of his daughters were slipping out of his grasp.

                “I almost fought back,” Weiss said quietly. Her blue eyes were locked on Winter’s, reddened and watery from crying. “I…was able to do things with my semblance I had never done before. I created a portal to my room and summoned Myrtlenaster from it. I…thought about fighting my own father,” she confessed, “I’m so sorry.”

                “It’s okay, don’t be sorry,” Winter said, “He shouldn't ever have used his semblance on you. You have a right to defend yourself, no matter who it is.”

                “I didn’t, though,” she continued, “I…didn’t think about what I was doing. I made a glyph and just…poured everything I was feeling into my semblance. I didn’t think about anything…except Ruby. I think, I really would have believed dad when he said I was alone, if not for her.” Weiss looked at Ruby and gave her a weak smile.

                “And you sent her the rose, all the way in Mistral,” she replied in disbelief. It had been the only explanation for a while now, but she couldn’t fathom how that had been possible. In her time of desperation, Weiss had pushed the limits of what was possible with the Schnee semblance.

                “Yeah,” she replied, looking puzzled, “How did you know about that?” Weiss looked at Ruby, who was tilting her head as she looked at Winter.

                “Qrow,” Winter said, but that didn’t seem to be a sufficient explanation, “I suppose he must have been following you.”

                Ruby shrugged. “I guess I’m not surprised,” she said. Then, her face changed to something like concern. “Qrow…is here. I think he’ll want to talk to you,” she said slowly. She and Weiss stood up, still holding hands, and made their way out into the living room. But he was nowhere to be found. Ruby spoke to Taiyang in hushed voices for a couple moments, then returned to Winter.

                “Let’s go,” she said quietly, gesturing for the two Schnees to follow her outside. They took a lantern to guide them through the dark woods, otherwise lit only by the moon and stars. They made their way to a hill that overlooked the rest of Vale. At the top of a hill there was a figure, barely lit from the light of his own lantern. Winter instantly recognized it as Qrow. He was talking, but there was no one else up there, only a modest headstone.

                “Summer Rose,” Ruby said, “My mom.”

                Winter nodded. She knew, though. And whether she was willing to admit it or not, she had always known. No matter what, a piece of Qrow’s heart would forever belong to someone else. She could feel her own heart pounding in her chest. As the girls disappeared back into the woods, their footsteps fading into the distance, she could hear his voice floating down from the hill.

                “…so that’s why I haven’t been back in a while. Our bench got all smashed up when Beacon was attacked and…I dunno. If you were here you would have said that it wasn’t the bench that mattered, it was that we kept each other in our hearts and all that.”

                He gave a long sigh, then continued, “But you’re not here, and plain ol’ memories aren’t good enough sometimes. You would hate to hear me say this so much—I can just picture the look on your face—but sometimes I think it should have been me instead. You would know what to do, how to help and I—I’m just lost. Everything used to make sense when you were here.”

                Winter crossed her arms. She felt something she couldn’t quite place. As each moment passed, she was less and less willing to approach him. Ruby had said he would want to talk to her, but she was having trouble believing it.

                “Ruby and Yang are so brave,” Qrow said, a little quieter now, “You would be so proud of them. They…lost a good friend in the battle. I wish that they didn’t have to feel the way I did. The way you did when Raven disappeared. I know you would hate it, and Taiyang certainly does, but I can see why she does it sometimes. The way we grew up, we never had anyone but each other, nothing to lose. We were cold, we never understood why people made mistakes because of things like _feelings_ or _love._ At least, until you.”

                Whether she had wanted to or not, Winter had found the last missing piece. More than that, she had discovered what Qrow had been running away from for all these years.

                “You changed everything for me,” he whispered, almost inaudible to her, “I never really understood pain until I lost you.”

                Winter could hardly contain the urge to run up to him, to hold him, to make him feel loved again. But at the same time, she was so consumed with fear that she was paralyzed. She didn’t doubt that Qrow truly loved her, but that scared her more now than anything. She had seen the true depths of his pain for the first time, and it was overwhelming. She was terrified of hurting him in the same way that Summer had. Even if she gave him everything, even if Winter spent her whole life loving him, they would still almost certainly end in tragedy. It was so common for Hunters and Huntresses to die young, but that fact had never really hit her until she realized how much she loved him.

                So Winter did what she swore she would never do—she ran. She wanted to feel safe again, she wanted to hide behind her uniform, she wanted to take orders instead of making decisions. She returned to the house, bade her sister farewell, and left Qrow a note that she knew he would understand:

                “I’ll be thinking of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry for the delay, I've been horribly sick with bronchitis :( Next is Chapter 23: Thinking of You!


	23. Thinking of You

            The moments after Qrow returned to Taiyang’s house that night seemed to last forever. Three of the inhabitants of the house were waiting for him to return. Taiyang, Ruby and Weiss were sitting at the kitchen table, looking concerned.

            “Oh no,” he said, “This doesn’t look good.” He had been hoping someone would laugh, and tell him that nothing bad happened after all. But they didn’t, and his mind jumped from one horrible possibility to the next. Still, what they said was not something he could have anticipated.

            “Winter Schnee was here,” Taiyang said flatly, “But she left about twenty minutes ago.”

            Qrow tried to ignore the clenching feeling in his chest. As he glanced around the table, he said, “That’s fine, if she was just here to check on Weiss, then I…” He trailed off. It didn’t matter if he finished his sentence, no one would believe him anyway.

            Ruby and Weiss looked at one another, then the former spoke, her voice wavering slightly, “She wanted to see you, too—she did see you—from far away.” His heart dropped. Before he could process what had happened, Ruby pulled something out from her pocket. It was a small, folded piece of paper. “She left this for you, by your scythe,” she said, then glanced around nervously, “Dad said it would be better to give it to you now.”

            Taiyang shrugged. Qrow took the note from Ruby. He had a feeling he already knew what it said, and he was dreading it. Still, he felt desperate to have a just a small piece of her, to see her handwriting and know:

            “I’ll be thinking of you.”

            Innocuous on the surface, but in the context of their history, his heart sank. He had left her the same note years ago, after her promotion ceremony. In the months following they had had no contact, bottling up their frustrations until an explosive meeting at the Education Summit. But they were different people back then. Things had changed, and Qrow wasn’t willing to be so far away for so long.

            He realized he had been staring at the note in silence too long, but he didn’t know what to say to break the tension. Never one for editing, he simply said what was on his mind. “So this is new for me…”

            Taiyang almost managed to suppress some kind of noise of surprise. Qrow narrowed his eyes, but honestly, he couldn’t blame him. Qrow had run away from so many people in his life, Taiyang being one of them. Now that he was finally on the other side, he hated it. He had never felt more vulnerable. They had been so close—physically close, yes—but also just on the cusp of having a real relationship, closer than they had ever been before.

            Suddenly, Weiss spoke for the first time since his return. “I think she loves you,” she said the words tumbling out of her mouth, “I saw how she was with Will, years ago. It’s not like that at all. She—around you, it’s like—she _melts_.”

            The word threw Qrow back into memories of the bar in Vale, Winter’s face flushed with intoxication and embarrassment. He thought of the almost-kiss that had meant so much to him for so long. That memory led to Technology Development, seeing her injured and Qrow realizing that he could not live or die without telling Winter how he felt. Their lives had fallen apart because of and in spite of one another, and they had almost, almost managed to find their way back to one another. Finally, he lingered on the memory of kissing her in the snow just a day earlier.

            “I know,” he replied, trying not to sound pained, “But sometimes that’s not enough.”

            Still, as Qrow sat alone in his bedroom, he couldn’t quite believe his own words. In the past, when he had been frustrated with Winter, he had thought to himself that he had given her everything, and it still hadn’t been enough for her. Now, it was painfully clear that he was wrong. He hadn’t given her Summer.

            In all the years that had passed since then, Qrow had never managed to decipher his feelings for Summer, so he figured he never would. What he had felt for her when they were at Beacon seemed so separate from the hormone-driven attraction he felt to others. He had never managed to work out what he actually wanted to do with her, only that he wanted her nearby, always. Qrow had never allowed himself to be attracted to her (or at least, to consciously acknowledge his attraction to her), since he had seen with his own eyes how romance ripped teams apart. Not to mention, he had always known that her feelings weren’t for him. When Taiyang and Raven first got together, Qrow had wondered if he might really have a chance with Summer after all. It quickly became clear that he didn’t, and he pushed the idea aside, forever.

            As years passed, he became okay with that. More than okay, really. He cared about Summer deeply, even loved her, but they wanted different things in their lives. Even when Taiyang and Summer found each other in the destruction that Raven left behind, he was fine. He loved his niece but had no interest in being tied down and raising children at that age. He was filled with his sister’s same wanderlust, but without the dire mistakes she had made. Summer was always happy whenever Qrow visited. She was a wonderful mother and a superb Huntress—everything she had ever dreamed of being.

            When he least expected it, everything changed in an instant, forever. Qrow didn’t remember who had told him, or what they had said. He only remembered sobbing through the night with Taiyang. They had known they should wake up Ruby and Yang to tell them, but they wanted the young girls to have one more night of sleep before their world was destroyed. After the funeral was one of the first times that Qrow really and truly ran away. The rest of Remnant did not reflect the drastic change that had occurred in his own small world, so it was easier to leave and pretend everything was okay. In truth, he also left to search for something. Summer had been his first love, and for many years, he worried she would be his last.

            Winter Schnee was different. Qrow had felt something that first night that they met, something that had only grown in the years since. He had known it then, and it had become clear to others in their lives as well. Nalim had put it quite simply the day before: Qrow and Winter were evenly matched. He hadn’t fallen in love with her at first sight, like he had with Summer. He hadn’t even been trying to fall in love with someone, as he had in the years previous. He knew he loved Winter wholly, completely, because it had grown slowly over the years, without his permission. Winter had run away, probably thinking that his heart would belong to someone else, forever, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He didn’t have a choice when he fell in love, but now that he did, he was choosing her.

\---

            Qrow was surprised to find Winter’s name and address in the Atlas military phone book. He had unlawfully accessed their databases with the intention of cross-referencing security photos and checkpoint time stamps in order to determine the neighborhood in which she lived, but now there was no need. He had expected to spend the majority of his afternoon plane ride to Atlas investigating potential locations, but he was left with nothing to do now that she chose to share her address with her colleagues.

            The choice absolutely baffled him. Her last name alone made her target, and she was well aware of that fact. Being a part of Ironwood’s inner circle only increased the threat of attack or kidnapping, especially in light of his most recent controversy at the Vytal Tournament. Qrow could not make sense of the choice until he started researching the building where she had chosen to move. It was directly adjacent to the military complex, and filled to the brim with Atlas’ best and brightest. He snickered to himself. Listing her name in the phonebook wasn’t a foolish mistake—it was a challenge.

            When he arrived in Atlas, Qrow had something that resembled a plan, which was a pretty big deal for him. It was late in the afternoon, so if she had managed to force her way back into work (which he strongly suspected), he would have to wait until she got home. That was just as well, because even in bird form, he was having trouble getting into her building. It was huge, perfectly clean, and under impossibly tight security. Qrow had thought he would be able to simply follow someone in, but the sliding doors slammed shut so quickly that he only managed to get a wing feather in, which was consequently ripped off. After that, he resigned to wait for her at the front door, hoping she would let him in.

            Winter appeared a couple hours later. He knew her silhouette, even from a distance. He felt a distinct pang when he noticed that she was wearing her uniform. The braids in her hair had remained, but the rest had been forced back up into the signature military bun. Qrow felt his anxiety grow as she came closer. Would the walls between them return now too? He couldn’t tell by the look on her face what she was thinking or feeling, only that her eyes were fixed on where he was perched.

            She stopped just before him, obviously dealing with some feelings internally. Another passerby in a military uniform gave Winter an odd look as she stared intently at a black bird resting on a ledge, and the bird stared back. Qrow chirped at her, but it was difficult to convey one’s emotions that way. Not that words would have made it any easier.

            “I suppose we should talk,” she sighed, and gestured for him to perch on her shoulder. He obliged, and chirped again, trying his best to make it sound happy. Together they passed through the sliding doors, into the building that Winter called home.

            It was just as tidy on the inside as it was on the outside, every piece of furniture and decoration sleek and modern. Winter’s apartment was furnished the same way, theoretically perfect for the public persona she was still so intent on projecting. In practice, she still couldn’t hide who she really was. There was a framed picture of Team DAWN on her inevitably cluttered desk, and through the doorway he could see that her white Huntress outfit was strewn on the bedroom floor.

            After she shut the door, Qrow transformed back. The injury he had received as a bird had manifested itself in a long, shallow scratch on his arm that itched slightly. “Feathers fall out every damn day,” he groaned, “But getting them ripped out still hurts.”

            “Thanks for using your semblance until we got up here,” Winter said, standing in front of him by the door. She gave him an odd smile and said, “The people here don’t believe the rumors about me.”

            Qrow chuckled. They were both uncomfortable, standing stiffly with their feet nearly touching. He desperately wanted to slip into the way they had been in Mistral—nothing had ever come so naturally to him, to _them_ as it did that night. But in order for them to return to that point, they had to face the obstacle before them now.

            “Um,” Winter said with a nervous laugh, “Any other big secrets I should know about?” Her lip quivered, but she was looking back at him with a small grin on her face.

            In an instant, Qrow’s whole body was filled with relief. Years ago, upon facing conflict, she would have shut him out and he would have run away, until they inevitably repeated the process months later. Things had really, truly changed. Somewhere along the way they had gone from convenient sex (fueled by equal parts attraction and disdain) to two people who fought their instincts to try and be together.

            “Nope, that was the last one,” he said. She looked relieved, but not all the tension was gone. Qrow knew what he had to do. “I’d…like to tell you about Summer, myself. It’s only fair that you have the whole truth.”

            “In that case,” she finally broke away from his gaze, looking worried, “I’m going to need a drink.”

            While Winter fixed them each a whiskey old fashioned, he sat down in one of her living room chairs and gathered his thoughts. After she handed it to him, he began to speak, but she held up a finger for him to wait while she took a very long drink. They both laughed a little, despite the serious conversation they were about to have. She took a deep breath and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

            He chuckled again. “There’s not all that much to it, really. Raven and I pretty much fended for ourselves until we got to Beacon. Summer and I were partners—“ he saw Winter wince at the word, “—so she was the first person that was actually nice to me, let alone genuinely cared about me. I think it was bound to happen, that I would have some kind of feelings for her. I…” Qrow was distracted by the expression on her face, which showed him exactly how much it hurt her to hear about. “I didn’t feel like this, not about her. I wanted her around, but never enough to change the way I was acting, or even change anything about my life. She made me feel better about myself, which I needed then, but you…I need _you_ now.”

            Qrow looked her in the eyes, and a cautious half-smile appeared on her face. He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, and all at once he pulled her off her chair and into a tight embrace. He felt Winter collapse against him, as though she were suddenly letting go of all the tension she had been holding inside.

            “I never doubted that you loved me, you know,” she said, her eyes shining, “If it wasn’t real, you wouldn’t have picked the worst time to tell me,” she added, finally smirking at him.

            Then, her expression changed, and she spoke softer. “When I ran, I ran because…I was afraid of hurting you. I couldn’t stand the idea of making you feel like that someday. When I got back here and hid from my feelings behind all of—“ she gestured around her apartment, to the military complex outside the window, “— _this_ , I realized that I already had. I’m so sorry.” She buried her head in his chest, taking slow, deep breaths.

            Qrow rubbed the back of her head affectionately, tempted to undo her bun and let her hair fall down. “It’s okay,” he assured her, “I deserved to know how that feels, at least once.”

            “I’m so sorry,” Winter repeated, looking back up at him, “I just—it reminded me of what happened in Technology Development, how close I was to losing you. How—if I make some stupid mistake and the White Fang gets another chance—how easily you could lose me. I don’t want to hide from the world, from what’s going out there, because you and I could be using our skills to help everyone—“ She paused, nearly frantic. She took a deep breath, and said, “But I—I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt.”

            “Well, what do you want to do?” He asked, rubbing her back with one hand.

            “I...” She began, then paused. “Summer was the last thing I really needed to understand about you. But with me, it’s different. I’ve always been defined by someone else. By being a Schnee, by being Atlas military, even by my team. I think—I’d like to just be Winter for a while. And I’d like to do it with you by my side, because…I guess, the last big secret I was keeping from you was…me.”

            Qrow smiled. He touched her hair again, very gently. Reading his mind, she obliged, and let her bun down into a mess of long white hair. “Excellent,” he said, running his fingers through it, “When do we start?”

            In response, Winter led him by the hand in the direction of her bedroom. “I think I like where this is going,” he said with a wink, and she smirked back at him. It became clear that her original intention was to change out of her uniform and into her Huntress outfit, but involving Qrow in the process complicated it somewhat. As he wrapped his hands around her chest, he felt something unusual in her jacket pocket. For just a moment their lips parted, and Winter gave a breathy laugh.

            Without a word, she pulled something out of the pocket—a folded piece of paper. He recognized it instantly, even though it had been years since he had seen it. In his own handwriting was written: “I’ll be thinking of you.” Qrow marveled at it. For the first time, he realized that Winter might have fallen for him long ago as well. Maybe even before Will, before all of the other circumstances that drove them apart. No matter how many times they pushed each other away, argued and fought, she had always kept the note. A part of Winter’s heart had belonged to Qrow for a long, long time.

             “In—in a world like Remnant, you can’t wait for the perfect person to come along,” she said, echoing his words from years ago, “Or the perfect circumstances. Sometimes…all you get is a connection, and you have to make it work, no matter what.”

            He kissed her, completely at a loss to describe how he felt with words. When they had talked in the rain that day, he never could have imagined—well, _this._

            “I don’t want circumstances to rule my life anymore,” she said, as they pulled apart briefly.

            “Good,” Qrow said, “We’ll make our own.”

            “Wait,” she said, interrupting as he began to remove her shirt, “There’s…one more thing.”

            He stopped. He was worried that Winter was still full of doubt, that there would always be ‘one more thing’ standing in their way.

            “I…” she started, then stopped, “If I…spend all this time figuring out who I really am, and that leads me back to the military, will you…will that be okay?”

            Qrow paused, genuinely pondering the question. He closed his eyes and imagined a life in which they both worked their respective jobs, and came home to each other—every single night.

            “Your silence is…not reassuring,” she said, her tone light but her face concerned.

            “I wanted to really think about it, okay?” He replied, laughing. He held her by the shoulders and continued, “To answer your question, yes. I don’t care what you do with your time as long as it makes you happy—as happy as you were when we were in Mistral. Is that…possible?” He asked, speaking openly about his last remaining shred of doubt. Qrow was no fool, he knew life couldn’t be like that all the time, but it was worth all the work to have moments like those.

            “I think so,” Winter said. She hesitated for a while, then continued, “I want to…be with you, but could we take it a bit slow? I don’t want to lose myself all over again.”

            “Of course,” Qrow said. If there was one thing he had learned in all his time with her, it was that patience and persistence paid off. “How slow would you like, exactly?”

            She took both his hands. “I want you here, tonight. I want to have dinner with you, and fall asleep with you, and…I want you to be there when I wake up in the morning. And then…we’ll figure it out from there?”

            Qrow pulled her in for a brief kiss. “Sounds like an excellent start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy damn, with Chapter 22 I broke 5000 hits and 200 kudos! You all are so amazing!! Thank you so much for your support, this project became so much bigger than I could have possibly imagined! I hope you enjoy the final installment, Chapter 24: What She Needs!


	24. What She Needs

                That night, Winter dreamed of what their future might be. She had started imagining it as she drifted off to sleep, comforted by Qrow’s soft snoring as she lay in his arms. As thoughts slipped into dreams, the once-familiar walls of fear and doubt fell gently down, revealing a future that now seemed within her reach.

                That future, of course, would begin in the morning. They could make breakfast together, like they had that cherished morning after her promotion ceremony. Since then, breakfast had meant common ground, it meant peace, and it meant that the world was okay just for a moment. That morning, Winter realized, was when things had changed for her forever. The way he had kissed her that morning was tender and full of laughter, rather than passion. It had been the start of something, she knew even then. But all those years ago, she couldn’t have possibly imagined what would follow. Winter opened her eyes sheepishly, barely holding onto consciousness. She ran her fingers down Qrow’s cheek, feeling his unkempt, stubbly beard and the countless tiny scares that marred his face. He was real, he was _here._ For the first time, she had no doubt that he would be there when she woke, and that they would have breakfast together.

                But what about after that? The though shot through her body like a rush of ice cold water, nearly jerking her out of her haze. The world was in shambles, on the brink of all-out war…but that didn’t matter, she reminded herself. From a practical standpoint, Qrow might be dangerous, but he knew better than anyone what was going on and how to survive it all. The things that used to keep her up at night bothered her so much less when she thought about facing them with him by her side.

                Then, she dreamed about her family. There was a distinct possibility that Weiss would never return, and Winter certainly didn’t expect her to. She imagined finally confronting her father, as she had so many times over the past few years. This time, she pictured herself doing it with Qrow next to her. Through all of their arguments and ideological clashes, no one had stood by her like he had. And all that he expected in return was to be her true, genuine self.

                Her mind went careening forward, imagining their wedding. Winter’s consciousness almost broke through, insisting that a wedding between two such people with the world in its current state was completely absurd. Nevertheless, her subconsciousness marched on, indulging itself in a fantasy that had long been locked away.

                Qrow asked Winter to marry him in the intensely private way that they often did things: alone in her apartment (which had long ago become _their_ apartment), he held her close, kissed her lightly and said, “I think we should get married—what about you?” Even in her own dream, it surprised her.

                “You don’t seem like the type for traditions,” she said. He shrugged, and winked.

                “You do strange things to me, Winter Schnee. Is that a ‘no’, then?” He asked, but he was smirking.

                Nevertheless, she stuttered, “No—wait—I mean—yes, of course—I—“

                “Good,” he said, pulling her in to kiss her, then added, “After all, this is your chance at a new last name. If that’s not enough, think of how much it’ll drive everyone crazy.”

                And she did decide to take his last name, but only after (very briefly) entertaining the idea of Qrow becoming a Schnee. “Oh, to see the look on your dad’s face, not to mention Ironwood,” he said, doubled over and wiping tears of laughter from his face, “Not sure if it would be worth the—you know— _murder.”_

                Winter didn’t wear white. In fact, she flat out refused. After all, this wedding was about more than a public display of their commitment to one another. It was about defying the expectations and the plans that others had made for her, and creating a new life for herself. The wedding itself was an understated affair, just the way they wanted it to be. Much to their chagrin, a few members of the press managed to sneak in, expecting an over-the-top glamorous event befitting an heiress. Naturally, they were thoroughly unimpressed. Many of the people who watched Qrow and Winter get married didn’t quite _get_ it. Ironwood in particular saw it as nothing more than an indication of the deterioration of Winter’s character. Only those closest to them understood the magnitude of what was occurring that day.

                Weiss attended with her recently-reformed team, and cried the entire time. When Winter asked if something had upset her, she simply said, “It makes me…hopeful, for the future.” Winter didn’t have to ask, she already knew.

                “Never thought I’d see the day,” Taiyang Xiao Long said, clapping Qrow on the shoulder. Then his face softened, and Winter braced herself. “Summer would be so happy, you know?”

                Qrow’s smile didn’t falter, even for a moment. “I know.”

                To her surprise, Winter’s mother attended. She had sent both her parents an invitation as a sort of peace offering, as though seeing her wedding would help them realize that she was going to lead her life in her own way. She hadn’t received any indication that they would be coming, though, until she spotted her mother seated in the very last row, disguised from the press in a large summer hat.

                “You look happy,” she said to Winter afterwards, reaching up to touch a flower in her daughter’s hair. Her voice sounded pained.

                “I am,” she said simply.

                “You know, that’s all we ever wanted for you,” her mother said, close to tears.

                Winter sighed, gave a small smile and said, “I know.”

                The dream of the wedding faded, but the joy lingered for a long while afterwards. It stayed even as the dream changed to the two of them in the woods, cold and alone. They were on a mission of dire importance, and Winter had been injured. The old wound from Technology Development had been reopened in a battle, and waves of familiar pain came over her. Still, it felt as though Qrow’s touch could heal her.

                “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he was saying, and she felt as though he had been saying it for a while. He was kneeling on the cold, muddy ground, cradling her in his arms. “You’ve been through worse, Ice Queen,” he said, stroking her hair, “You’ll be alright.”

                “I know,” she sighed, “As long as you’re here.” But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true. They were both covered in blood, and the cold numbness throughout her body indicated to Winter that it was her own. 

                “You know, Winter,” he said, “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”

                She tried to respond, but she couldn’t. She tried to breathe, but felt no air entering her lungs. She struggled and struggled until finally, she woke. Her heart was pounding, and she was drenched in cold sweat. In the years since the incident in Technology Development, she had dreamed of her death many times. But this time—in both her dream and reality—she didn’t have to be alone.

                “Are you okay?” Qrow asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. She shivered, trying to move somehow even closer to the warmth of his body than she already was, wrapped up in his arms.

                “I’m alright,” she said, still breathing heavily. With his thumb, he reached up and wiped away a tear from her cheek. Winter hadn’t realized she was crying until then. “Really, I am,” she added, knowing it sounded less convincing with tears streaming down her face. But it was absolutely true. She was filled with relief upon waking to find herself alive, just on the brink of beginning a future with Qrow.

                “I love you, Ice Queen,” he said sheepishly, barely awake. He pulled her just a little bit closer to him, and she laid her head back down on his shoulder. Winter slipped her legs in between his, admiring how well their bodies fit together.

                “I love you too,” she sighed. Within moments his snoring resumed, and underneath her hand she could feel his heart’s steady rhythm. She drifted back to sleep staring across the room at her desk, thinking about what it would be like to return to work after this.

                Those thoughts morphed into a dream starring herself, Qrow, and Ironwood. They were in the latter’s office as she remembered it, but immediately something felt wrong. Her unconscious mind suggested that Ironwood had been living there full-time, with food and trash scattered throughout the room, and tattered pillows and blankets on his couch.

                The General himself was livid, more furious than Winter had ever seen him. His face was so full of color that it was nearly purple with rage. Before he even spoke, she knew that at least part of his anger was directed at herself and Qrow.

                “How _dare_ you speak to me that way, Winter,” he nearly spat the words onto the ground, and she balked. Thanks to the dream throwing her in the middle of the conversation, she had no idea what she had said, but still she felt as though it hadn’t warranted this kind of reaction. In the past, Ironwood had only used her first name when reprimanding her, but this was so far beyond that. Perhaps worst of all, something about his phrasing or expression reminded Winter deeply of her father. Qrow, who had been standing behind her, seemed to sense this.

                “Go to hell, James,” he said, stepping forward. When Ironwood opened his mouth to reply, Qrow cut him off, “No, you can fuck right off. Winter stuck with you through all your bullshit, she’s been the only voice of reason in this place for a long time.”

                She wanted to interject. After all, she was fully prepared to fight her own battles. Before she could, Ironwood interrupted.

                “You,” he snarled at Qrow, then turned to Winter, “I knew all along you were too good to be true. As soon as you met him, you made one disastrous choice after another. The Atlas military has no place for those who are not willing to protect the kingdom.”

                In the dream, she suddenly remembered what they were talking about. “But—General, sir,” she began, although they were long past the point of pleasantries, “This airstrike—it’s not just pointless, it’s…heartless!” She cried, feeling desperation taking over, “Mistral has never given any indication that they wish to threaten Atlas!”

                His eyes narrowed, his intense gaze boring a hole into her head, but she held strong. “They’ve been amassing forces—we have no choice but to strike preemptively. Otherwise, there will be no more kingdom for you to passively defend, when it suits you,” he added with a cruel grimace. Winter was horrified.

                “Sir, that’s—that’s insane,” she said, unable to break through to him. “So many civilians,” she said almost to herself, on the verge of panic.

                “Let me repeat myself, since I have obviously not been clear,” Ironwood said, his voice suddenly cold, “The Atlas military has no place for you.”

                Winter resisted as the dream changed. Her mind hadn’t fully realized that it wasn’t real, and it grasped at the last remaining moments in order to stop Ironwood from ordering the airstrike. She was so focused on the civilians in Mistral that that’s exactly where her mind led her to next. In a transition equally as jarring as the last, Winter suddenly found herself outside a cottage on the outskirts of the kingdom.

                _Home,_ she thought to herself, with equal parts familiarity and surprise.

                It was dark blue with white trim, facing outwards from the woods and otherwise surrounded by wild plains. It was presumably connected to civilization by the dirt road that crossed in front of it. The mailbox outside bore white stenciled letters: Branwen. In spite of this, she still felt apprehensive. What sort of a future was this, and was Qrow a part of it? Either way, the answer lay inside.

                She pushed open the front door, which led into a small kitchen, and breathed a sigh of relief. He was there--she recognized his silhouette from behind, washing dishes. Of course he was there, she thought. It seemed as though part of her mind belonged to this reality, and part of her was just visiting for the moment.

                He turned around at the sound of the door, even though Winter hadn’t announced herself. Qrow had aged, but he wore it well. His hair and beard were more than half grey now, and he was no longer lanky bordering on emaciated. But the biggest change of all was that he looked _happy._

                “Winter,” he said, dropping dishes into the sink and rushing over to her. She noticed just in time that he was wearing an _apron._ ‘Didn’t I tell you? I’m a family man!’ his voice floated in, the dream briefly interrupted by a memory. It faded quickly as Qrow grabbed both sides of her face, his hands still wet with dishwater, and kissed her long and hard. All of her gave a massive sigh of relief. To her dream self, it had been days since she had seen him, which felt desperately long. “We missed you so much,” he said as he kissed her on the nose.

                “I missed you too,” she said, and kissed him again, a small part of her wondering what he had meant by ‘we’.

                “Eww, gross!” a small voice came from below them, and it was almost like a spell. A single word shot through Winter’s mind until it permeated her body: _Wren._ With that word came power like she had never felt before. It was not aura, it was not her semblance. It was something entirely foreign, and yet entirely familiar. She let go of Qrow and opened her eyes. There she saw her daughter, Wren, with tousled silver-grey hair that fell past her shoulders, peering up at her with her father’s red eyes. The fire in her chest grew until the part of her that was still tied to reality disappeared completely. As Winter looked at her children, an overwhelming rush of pride and love came over her, as it had a million times before.

                “Did you miss me?” she asked, leaning over to kiss Wren on the forehead as she nodded. No matter how much she had missed her mother, it could not possibly compare to what Winter had felt. Not a single moment had passed on her mission when she hadn’t been thinking of her children. “Have you been nice to your brother?”

                Wren let out a brief _huff_ noise and rolled her eyes. She had just turned eight, and had quickly developed her mother’s stubbornness and her father’s disregard for authority. Winter glanced to Qrow for more information. “She was, actually…mostly. She just seems embarrassed when I catch them getting along,” he said as Winter walked over to their son, Cole, who had been watching them cautiously from the living room.

                She pushed aside a few toys to make room to sit beside him on the floor, then thought better of it and pulled him into her arms. He obliged, wrapping his little arms around her as far as he could reach, clutching her jacket in his hands. He was four, and had begun experimenting with calling Winter ‘Mom’ like Wren did instead of ‘Mommy,’ but she wasn’t quite ready to realize that her little boy was growing up. “Were you good for your father?” she asked. Even after all these years, the Schnee stiffness permeated her vocabulary when she least expected it. But her family didn’t seem to mind. For Wren and Cole, every oddity and idiosyncrasy was folded into their simple, comforting definition of ‘Mom’. And Qrow, well, he knew everything there was to know about her.

                He had grabbed Wren by her armpits and was now in the process of sitting down beside Winter and Cole on the living room floor. Wren had succumbed quite easily as well, tired after a long day. She had far more energy even than most children her age, so Qrow had begun to teach her how to fight, with Winter’s cautious approval. She hadn’t been quite sure about wanting her children to follow in her footsteps, but she didn’t want to bar them from her path either. For now at least, the exercise was good for Wren, and seeing her tired like this was a real treat.

                As Qrow and Wren leaned their collective weight on Winter and Cole, she touched a soft curl in her daughter’s hair and Wren’s eyes closed sheepishly. She moved her hand to pat Cole’s back as she rocked him back and forth, and with her other hand ran her fingers through his thick black hair. He was relaxed but wide awake, his big blue eyes peering at Qrow as he rested against Winter’s chest. Cole was quiet, but constantly taking in everything about the world around him, always learning. He watched everything his sister did and more, with a tender, understanding heart.

                Winter turned her head back towards Qrow’s, brushing her nose against his for just moment. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the children. “I feel like I was gone for…years.”

                “It felt that way to us, too. I know you feel that way when I go on missions as well,” he offered, “But…you know you can’t stay, right?” His voice broke somewhat, changing in a way he couldn’t quite place.

                “What?” Winter couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

                “You can’t stay here,” he repeated, and she clutched Cole tighter in her arms. Her subconscious was breaking through, reminding her that this wasn’t real, and it was speaking through her vision of Qrow. “Not yet, anyway.”

                “But, please,” she said, tears streaming down her face, despite realizing that she was arguing with her own imagination. This was so different than the future the world had convinced her she wanted. Right here, right now, this was the future Winter _needed_ —she could feel it in the very core of her being. And more than anything, she was not yet ready to leave.

                “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Qrow said, wiping away her tears with his thumb as he had not too long ago, “When you wake up, we’re going to have breakfast.”

                The scene began to fade around her, giving way to pure daylight. For a moment, Winter felt nothing. Then, through the light, she recognized the sensation of crisp cotton sheets against her bare skin. She zeroed in on that feeling, focusing on it until finally, she woke up.

                The first thing that she noticed was that the space beside her in the bed was empty. For a second, she panicked, worrying that Qrow had had second thoughts and left. It was only a single instant, though, as his voice floated in from the kitchen. “Hey, do you have any eggs? I can’t find any, but what kind of person doesn’t always have _eggs?_ ” Sure enough, his words were punctuated by the rattling of jars in her refrigerator. Winter let out a sigh of relief, put on her white silk robe and headed out to the kitchen.

                “The kind that travel a lot,” she said, leaning on the counter and watching him from behind. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt upon waking, and she certainly didn’t mind. “They go bad too quickly,” she explained.

                He turned around to greet her just as she was wiping the sleep from her eyes. As Qrow kissed her, first on the lips and then on the forehead, Winter wrapped her arms around him.

                “Oh my god, what time is it?” She exclaimed, looking at the sunlight streaming through the window. He laughed and waved his hand.

                “Well, you were sleeping so hard I didn’t want to wake you up, so I texted Ironwood from your scroll and told him you quit,” he said, chuckling. When her eyes widened, he clarified, “Nah, I’m just kidding, I told him you weren’t feeling well. He says he wants you to feel better, to take as much time as you need.”

                It took a moment for Winter to process, and remember that her dream wasn’t real, that Ironwood hadn’t been driven to madness. The time she took to think seemed to worry Qrow. “Did I wake you up? I heard you talking and thought you were up already.”

                She let out a small sigh, then smiled back at him. “No, I was—I was just dreaming,” she said. In his face she could see the face of her husband, her life partner, their children in the years to come.

                “That must have been some dream, I’ve never heard you talk in your sleep before,” he said, brushing her bangs off her face.

                “It was…” Winter replied, trailing off. She focused on the memories of the dream, feeling them slipping away already. Then, suddenly, she let them all disappear as she realized that the future she so desperately needed was standing right there in front of her. “Listen, Qrow, I’ve been thinking,” she began.

                “Oh no,” he said, only half-joking.

                “No, really, it’s okay, it’s good,” she said, “I…said last night that I wanted to take things slow. But that’s not what I want at all, not really.” She took a deep breath, and then said, “No matter how the future turns out, I want you there. I—I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

                “Really?” Qrow asked, and his red eyes lit up, “But wait, I don’t want you to feel like you’re building your future around me, like you did with everyone else.”

                She pondered this for a moment, then smiled. “No, you’re right. I want to build it _with_ you. We’ll make our own circumstances ourselves, together.” She held him as tight as she possibly could, feeling the love of years past and years to come welling up inside her. “I love you, Qrow.”

                “I love you too, Winter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA! One more big THANK YOU to everyone who has supported me through this project, you all kept me going when I wasn't sure I was going to finish it!! If you enjoyed this, please please consider following me on here or Tumblr (papillon-jasmin), because I have a bunch more RWBY projects in the works, including some Rosebird fluff, an Epic JNPR AU, and some saucy Raewin shorts. I've had so much fun writing this, I'm so glad you all have enjoyed reading it, and THANK YOU all again, from the bottom of my heart. :')


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